REALITY IS OPTIONAL SPRING E-ZINE
"What Is That Coming Out of the Ground?!"
Fun Ways to get Started with Writing
- Pick a word from the dictionary
- Pick a word/phrase/ sentence form a book
- Put on pirate accordion music
- Write a novel, not in one year, not in one month, not in one week, but in one hour!
- Kill the princess. Kill all the cliché princesses in a short story.
- Imitate an AI trying (and failing) to imitate human creativity.
- Use the Wheel of Genre
- Add "space" and/or "pirates" to anything
- Put something through Google "Translate" and use it as a prompt.
- Have a fake sword fight in the snow
- Write a ghost story.
Banana Haiku by RIO
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SCENE
Pilot: I swear if we don't get on the plane in five minutes I will leave you all to burn.
Mechanic: Sorry to disappoint, Cap'n, but we're gonna be waiting longer than five minutes if things keep goin' to way they're goin'.
Pilot: At this point I kinda hope we all BLOW UP it would make things A LOT easier!
Mechanic: Well then, you're in luck! There's a pretty darn good chance the engine'll go critical in about fifteen minutes!
Pilot: THEN FI-
Explosion
Pilot: I swear if we don't get on the plane in five minutes I will leave you all to burn.
Mechanic: Sorry to disappoint, Cap'n, but we're gonna be waiting longer than five minutes if things keep goin' to way they're goin'.
Pilot: At this point I kinda hope we all BLOW UP it would make things A LOT easier!
Mechanic: Well then, you're in luck! There's a pretty darn good chance the engine'll go critical in about fifteen minutes!
Pilot: THEN FI-
Explosion
How Classy Are You?
Take the quiz and find out!
By Laura
By Laura
By Lina Kat
Celebrating Forknife
Forknife By Tobe
KID was doing his usual things like going to karate and kung fu lessons but little did he know the next day would change his life forever.The next day kid’s dad woke him up very early and told him to look outside he could not believe his eyes zombies were banging on his door.Kid imedidity did what any young teeaneger would do and did kamekameha (a very strong punch move) but after a while he and his dad who were fighting the zombies were getting a bit exhausted then kid remembered it was forknife day
Forknife by Daisy
The day had finally come again to reunite with all the village folk and win the battle with forks! The otter, who had never told her real name, was ready to fight. Her friends in the village respected her reason to not reveal her true name, but still often wonder what it could be. Instead, her friends called her the trident fighter, hence her long trident-like fork she fought with. They all joined up, and with big smiles, they were all ready to start the battle. The otters friends, and other village folk that she didn't even know, all brought out their fork, or warrior sticks, as they liked to call them, and proudly presented them to the king. every year, on the hour before the battle starts, the king would come to judge everyone's forks, but it was no piece of cake! He would walk over and observe the warrior sticks that the village people showed him, and if you and your fork got accepted, you were free, and could fight for your own life, but, as the consequence goes, if the king doesn't like what he sees, you have to fight and protect him , not yourself.
So, even though everyone was scared,and wanted to survive another year, they gingerly showed the king their warrior
Forknife by Harine
Sitara couldn’t wait much longer to find out what had happened during Forknife. She had left to find the legend about the fork that could tell her all about her future, past and present. Sitara’s family didn’t really believe the legends she found except for her aunt and her dog. She had said that she was going out and doing her forknife tradition, killing zombies. She sat down, her long brown french braids pressed against her neck as she opened her fortune cookie and unscrolled the little piece of paper left in between the two cookies. To her surprise she had got alng note.
Dear Sitara ,
Along the river under the roots of the big oak tree is what you have been looking for. Take it home and find out how to save your little town from the Dracula that lives in the so-called “empty” castle, find him and suck the truth out of him. He knows you're there so don’t tell anyone else.
Sitara flipped the small page that was lightly burned by what she knew was a candle. She knew who had written this and insisted she save it to the traditional part. Her mother. Sitara picked up her fork from the ground and directed her black dog towards the big castle which was covered by vines. She ran and ran until she could feel the heat which came inside. She tried to place her hand on the drawbridge but it gave a big push and Sitara was on the ground somewhat 20 meters away. She knew the dracula was in there and she knew he knew she was there standing outside his castle.
Forknife by Mya
Emma loved the outdoors, she would walk around outside whenever she got the chance. But because of the zombies she couldn’t go whenever she wanted. Her favorite holiday was Forknife. She could kill zombies and if the weather was right, get to walk and fight under the stars. She loved star light and one night decided to go outside. She was fine for a while before she encountered a zombie. It glared at her hungerly and she raised her fork. The zombie pounced, mouth open wide. Emma jumped back and stabbed the zombie in the back and it fell over dead again. She sighed with relief, then from behind another zombie pounced it managed to grab hold of her arm. But Emma was well trained, she twisted and wrenched her arm free. She quickly turned and thrust her knife into the zombie’s neck. With a violent twist of her wrist, the zombie’s head flew off. Not wanting to have to fight any more zombies alone, she turned and ran back to her house hoping no zombies were chasing her. On the eve of forknife Emma and her family watched the parade and enjoyed the markets and feasts, but all Emma wanted to do was go out of town and fight zombies. Finally midnight came and her family was among the first to leave. They charged out of the walls and attacked any zombies who got in their way. Emma rammed right into a zombie who at one point must have been a very large man. She thrust her fork into the zombie, but instead of falling over the zombie looked down at the fork in his chest then looked back up at Emma. His disgusting face twisted into a horrible smile, he grabbed the fork with his massive hand. Then he pulled it out, Emma had still had her hand on the fork when he had grabbed it. He pulled her closer and opened his mouth wide, Emma struggled but he was strong. He had almost pulled her close enough to bite off her head when a figure stepped out from behind. The figure slashed at the zombie from behind, slowly the zombie’s head slid off and fell to the ground. The grip around Emma’s hand slackened and she pulled her hand out. “I didn’t need your help,” she said, rubbing her wrist. “Sure looked like you did.” Gaven stepped out from behind the carcass. “No i didn’t i had him right where i-” Emma glanced behind Gaven and noticed a zombie making a beeline for them. Gaven flipped his fork around; he preferred to use the long kind more like a trident than a fork. He thrusted it backwards and stabbed the zombie. It fell down behind him, he turned around and finished it off with a quick blow to the head. “Show off.” Emma mumbled she shoved past Gaven and ran off into the night looking for more zombies to kill.
Forknife by Evangeline
It was Jade’s first day back in their assigned camp, and they were ready for battle. Walking at a very fast pace for a person who just started to walk again, they strode over to the main tent. Inside was a large machine which led the squad. It was run by a particularly small man, but together they did the job and protected the country from zombies. Today was a rather good day, for it was ForkNife, the day of the country. On this day, the capital city would be an uproar with parades, markets and social gatherings. Jade was surprisingly happy to be away 5feedback of the communicators they had on. But secondly, the zombies came from a different direction. Normally, the zombies came from the West, and made their way through the warehouse, where the squad would ambush them. But today, the zombies heard the commotion from the city and changed course, a direct bee-line to the city that the army had sworn to protect! Jade and their squad took off running when they figured it out. Forks were firing small metal bullets, and some zombies fell to the ground. The other zombies realized what was happening, and turned around. Great, now the squad got their attention. Suddenly, a surprise group of zombies came from the opposite direction. Jade was surrounded! A horn could be heard in the distance, and all the battlers turned towards the hill. The captain had arrived! They charged down the hill, pitchforks in hand, and knocked out the enemy. A victory for the people that day! Jade sighed heavily, releasing all the stress from their shoulders. They knew that the city was safe, but couldn’t help feeling like they failed. The captain noticed their down-cast face, and reassured them with one, simple nod. Everyone was treated to warm soup and campfire singing that night, and stories were shared of the randomly stressful day.
Forknife by Huxley:
Chapter 1
It was the average day in Forktropolis, at least, as average as the caged zombies make it. There was just an outbreak a week ago, and the government deployed all these cages to gather them up. I was walking to school with my friend.
“How's life?” I asked.
“This is… about as good as it gets.” He replied drowsily. He’s been waking up at night because he has these dreams about killing zombies with a fork. Weird, right? So he’s been real sleepy in the morning, and these zombie cages certainly don’t help.
“That’s a really low bar for a good life.” I said walking backwards now. “I mean sure, there was a zombie outbreak a week ago that almost wiped out humanity but…” I trailed off, realizing what I was saying. I quickly started back up, this time with a more positive attitude. “But the government's got it under control now, and I hear they’re using the zombies for military training.” he stared back at me in horror.
“Virgil,” (by the way, that’s my name. Sorry I didn’t say this before!) he said, stopping is his tracks. I turned around and looked at him. “You’re not…”
“Oh yes I am. I’m turning 18 tomorrow.” I said, flicking my hair.
“Oh, you’re…” he trailed off.
Forknife by Kaslyn
Obley sighed. She was crouched in a small bush, waiting for the zombie. She glanced through the big opening. Why was she part of this department? One zombie at a time instead of five. Boring! Obley wished she was back at her house, baking her grandma’s cookies. Obley moved her head to the left to try to see what was happening outside of the Zombie Bushwatchers Department. Her leader, Tali, glared at her sharply.
“ Obley!” he scolded in a quiet whisper. “ Get back to your bush!”
Obley obeyed reluctantly. The person on the other side of her smiled at Obley in sympathy.
“ She’s doing fine,” the odd person told the leader.
Leader John glared at the mysterious person. “ I didn’t ask you.”
“ Zombies!” Hissed someone in a nearby bush.
“ Number?” Leader John barked.
“ Three! Color code, green,” hissed the voice back.
Obley felt herself turn red. Everyone knew each other.
“ Why did Mr. Tomas have to take my spot,” she grumbled as her workmates got up on their knees with their special binoculars that could spot even a crumb of movement.
Obley groaned and did as told. She spotted them immediately.
“ Leader! Leader John!” She hissed.
“ What, rookie?” he shot back.
Obley pointed to the moving pieces of green slime. Leader John shook his head.
“ There’s know way a no-brain rookie like you, Ms. Obley, could catch them,” Leader John sniffed.
Obley scowled. “ Oh yes, there is. You and your dumb team can’t spot the zombies I can spot in five seconds, while it takes your team more than 10 minutes.”
Obley stood up. “ And you know what?”
She brushed herself off. “ Goodbye.”
So Obley ran to back to her old group, killing seven zombies on the way, and was welcomed with warm smiles.
“ I knew you’d be back, expert,” her old leader, Leader Bana ruffled her brown, short hair. “ Good going, Obley.”
Forknife by Penny
Vampirioh tightened they're cape, tucking they’re raincoat in so nobody could see it, because naturally, it was quite embarrassing to be afraid of the rain. They glanced out the rain-splattered window, squinting their eyes to see outside into the dreary haze.
ForkNife was beginning in just a few minutes! They abruptly tugged the cabin door open and stepped onto they’re porch. Oh no…Rain…They thought, but still trudged onward into the slushy muck the downpour had created. Vampirioh had always been a top ForkNife champion, they had all the qualities that made a vampire great at stabbing zombies, courage, enthusiasm, (sometimes) , arrogance….stupidity….e.t.c.
“AAAAAAARGH!” They shouted immediately as rain poured down their raincoat. “WHAT IS THE POINT OF A DUMB RAINCOAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“Vampirioh, are you coming? The hunt is beginning.” A soft nearby voice asked, clearly holding back giggles. They whirled around.
“OH. Demona.” Vampirioh growled. Demona was they’re top competition, she was only nine (in vampire years) but was astonishingly a prodigy at stabbing zombies (nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, creatures.) Demona was always trying to steal they’re glory, they’re ZOMBIE STABBING MEDALS. For the past two years, Demona had welded a better pitchfork, stabbed twenty five zombies while they had stabbed twenty four, and done everything to do with ForkNife just a tiny bit better than Vampirioh.
THIS WAS THE YEAR THAT WILL CHANGE. They told themselves quietly.
“Come on.” Demona repeated. “Pitchfork making’s about to start.”
Reluctantly, Vampirioh followed Demona into Transylvania’s pitchfork making space (specifically built for ForkNife). There was nothing better to do than be annoyed with Demona and feel sorry for themselves before the hunt began.
Forknife by Brynnae
Enna was running. Running as fast and as hard as she could. And really, that was FAST. Enna had scaly wings growing out of her shoulder blades that flapped as hard as they could as she ran, allowing her to almost hover over logs and roots and other tripping hazards. SHe thought she had lost them when… POM! A large roch caught her wing dead in the center and sent her spinning into a tree.
“Got her!” Someone called, and two boys raced into the clearing. “Oooh, she’s scared now!” Said the one on the left.
“Hello gazin.” Enna said as calmly as she could. It was hard not to grit her teeth with pain as she flexed her shoulder. “Nice throw.” Gazin looked confused for a moment, then he chuckled.
“Thanks. I’ll give you a demo sometime.” He cocked back his arm, and Enna sot into the sky. Surprised, she looked up to see a slender girl in a handsome blue suit attached to some kind of drone keeping her a float.
“You’re an idiot!” She called down to the boys, and they started to fly back to the Forknife celebrations in the center of town. “YOU’RE an idiot TOO, ya know. You shouldn’t have insulted his fork.” Said the girl, tossing her blonde hair in the wind.
“I know, Jazz. But it looks so stupid! The thing is a foot long covered in orange glitter. He thinks he can match this?” Enna Unslung her own pure obsidian fork from her back. It was four feet long with three sharp points and weighed nothing to her. To others, it would be as heavy as, well, obsidian. “You can drop me here. I think I see my mom.”
“You sure you won’t break your leg?” Jazz joked.
“I have WINGS.”
“Ok, ok. See ya soon.” Jazz giggled. She dropped Enna and whizzed off.
Enna landed gracefully in the abandoned clearing in the forest. Okf course, her mom was nowhere near here, and Jazz knew that. She knew what Enna really wanted, had wanted since her first Forknife. To kill a monster. A giant zombie so scary Gazin would pee his pants and scream like a little kid. She wanted to prove herself. To be strong.
“Dumb Gazin.” Enna growled, flinching as her wing throbbed painfully, Truth be told, she hadn’t REALLY landed that well, but her wing hurt! She couldn't tell Jazz about the stone he threw, or shed’ve told Enna's mother. Then she wouldn’t be allowed to go to forknife.
‘What if you get ambushed and can’t fly away from the zombies?’
“Pah. Stupid Zombies.” She grumbled. Suddenly, there was a snap in the bushes, and an earthshaking roar.
“YES!” Screeched Enna. From the trees lumbered a massive zombie, grey skin and a torn white shirt oozing blood. “FIGHT ME!” She cried. She heard shouting and cries of alarm from the town. They thought she was in danger? Hah!
“GROOOOAURGH!” Said the zombie
“ROOOOAR!” Screamed Enna. She leapt forward and sank her fork into the zombies chest. Or at least, she’d meant to. It turned at the last moment and Enna had to flap her wings hastily despite the pain so she didn’t faceplant. SHe turned around and stabbed the zombies foot, spattering her with little drops of zombie blood, ghostly white and translucent.
“YAAA!” Enna cried, and she half jumped half flew into a nearby tree. With a cry of triumph, she sank her fork into the back of the zombie’s head. Silence. Then… it started to tip forward. She only had time to pull her fork out and jump away before it hit the ground.
A crowd began to gather in the disturbed dust. As it settled, Enna saw most of the town had come to investigate. They looked worried. But also impressed. Someone hooted. Another cheered, soon the town was clapping nervously. They had witnessed someone great doing something great. They were in awe, and Enna loved it. She strolled into the clearing, fork in hand.
THE END
Forknife by Shaye
Starball Zombieslayer and his firebat named Fireball were flying through space. They were having a good time jumping through wormholes until Starball remembered it was Forknife, the day of the living dead. Starballs parents were thrown to the moon by zombies. So he told Fireball to follow him and they raced off landing on Prime Earth. There was no one to be seen. Starball started walking down long roads of tall buildings with weird twisting trees and plants sprouting out of windows. Right when he was about to turn a corner he heard loud yells and groaning. Starball and Fireball both slowly turned to see a horde of zombies dragging themselves toward them. Starball immediately flew straight up, charging his fire gauntlets. Right before he was about to fire a beam of flaming light, a weird shape emerged from the building next to him. It was a circular shape and when he looked at the sign of the building, fear struck him right down his spine. Out of the building came a giant zombie cookie. Starbal pulled out his trident at the speed of light and started blasting the cookie. The cookie fell backwards just to get up again pulling out a gun. The zombie cookie loaded the gun with mini cookies and right before it pulled the trigger it said: Brainssss and started blasting cookies right at Starball. Fireball didn’t get it so she opened her mouth and started eating them all. Then Fireball flew over to the zombie cookie and ate it in one bite. Starball landed and picked up Fireball telling her she was the greatest pet. But she just looked at him with a confused face, not sure what she did. Fireball had been with Starball for all his 300,000 years of life. Then Starball looked down at Fireball and they both shot a beam of fire light blowing the zombies up in flames. The End.
Forknife by Faryn
On the night of Forknife Forky was about to leave to hunt for zombies so she could test her cure.. After packing her bag with food and supplies, including her fork/trident, and arming herself with her gauntlets, she headed out. Closing the door of her small shack behind her she snuck around in search of an undead creature. As she wandered into a deep thicket she heard the groaning sounds of a zombie. Forky quickly dashed into a nearby bush and watched as the zombie crept by. If Forky made a single move or sound the zombie would notice her and bit her and that would be the end. So as soon as it was right in front of here she lunged forward and stabbed it in the shoulder. The zombie shreked and fell on its side. After it stopped screaming and fell asleep, Forky dragged its limp, but not dead, body back to her old shack. She laid it on the bed and got her cure out. She gently stuck the needle into the side of the zombie and waited. After a long time she began to notice the dead look of the creature became less…well… dead. The creature's skin turned darker like a real human. Forky stood up and shouted with joy. All was well until a sound of thumping came from the door. Then a mob of zombies burst in. Forky grabbed her huge fork and began stabbing at the zombies. She worked her way through until there was only one left. It lunged at her, knocking her to the ground. It bit her in the arm just as she pushed it away. She stabbed it and then bent down and examined her throbbing wound. Forky grabbed her bottle of the formula that she had created to cure the zombies, and a fresh needle. She poked herself with it and wrapped the wound with a piece of cloth. The formula did work so it had to work even before she had turned.
Forknife by Emma
8 months ago, Whiskas was a stray cat who survived on stealing food from
restaurants. But soon, people got mad at him for taking their food and started punishing him severely. So, just like that, poor Whiskas was too frightened to try to get any food from the restaurants, in fear that the people there would hurt him. So, he curled up under an abandoned truck and slept poorly for two days. When he woke up, he was starving, shaking and could barely move because he didn’t have enough strength. Just then, a witch dressed in dark blue robes with an unusually pointed hat walked towards Whiskas. When she saw that the poor cat was all skin and bones, she took pity on him. So, she cast a spell on him to make him fall asleep, then, she made him able to walk on both feet, hold things with his paws, and speak both English and French fluently. Right after she cast the spell, she whispered in Whiskas’s ear, “do me a favour. Fight as many zombies as you can with this fork.” As she spoke, she put a sharp, polished wooden fork beside the sleeping Whiskas. Then, she disappeared in a swirl of wind and Whiskas woke up a few minutes later to find himself with a strong urge to fight for his town and kill as many zombies as he could. And, ladies and gentlemen, that was how one of the most amazing heroes was born.
Forknife by Hugo
Late one evening 3 years ago jeff looked out the window and saw his granny getting attacked by zombies. Ever since he has fought zombies on fork knife from when the Bringer Of Night comes to when the suns first rays are peeking over the horizon. He holds mighty five tonged trident. So far he has killed 10,000,000 zombies.
Forknife by Laura
The Bringer of Night glided into the town on wings of forks. She looked like a graceful bird flying with ease, but flapping the wings was very difficult for her. As we know, doing difficult things with ease is the mark of a professional, which The Bringer of NIght most definitely was. She was older than anyone could guess and had killed more zombies than the rest of the town put together.
It was late on the eve of Fork Knife 100 years ago when The Bringer of Night sat in her treehouse with her best friend, a zombie called Fortuna. They looked out the treehouse’s small window and saw all the other zombies getting stabbed with forks. The screams were horrific. The Bringer of Night turned to Fortuna and was about to say something beautiful like, “I would never do that to you,” or some such lovely pledge of friendship, but she never had the chance. Two forks were plunged into her eyes and the last thing she saw was her dear zombie friends murderous face. Weakly, The Bringer of Night groaned, “Et Tu, Fortuna?”
It was betrayal in its finest form.
Since that night, The Bringer of Night was only seen on Fork Night. She spoke little, but would tell anyone who asked that it was her quest to seek revenge on all zombiekind, and that she would hunt them down until her dying day.
Although, no one was sure that The Bringer of Night shall ever die.
The tradition on Fork Knife is now that the killing commences only when The Bringer of Night takes her stab at the first zombie.
The Bringer of Night, being blind since…the incident, had developed a sense that allowed her to feel if there were zombies coming. Some said this power worked within a 10 mile radius, others said it was 100, and there are a few who will tell you she knows the comings and goings of every zombie on the planet.
And now to let you in on a secret. You know that spry little woman who runs FORKS,FORKs, AND MORE FORKS, the village’s fork armory? Well, I happen to know that she is The Bringer of Night. That is why she always wears sunglasses, to hide the scars. And if you tell her I sent you, she might show you. She still has the two forks that Fortuna used to blind her. She calls them Righty and Lefty. That last thing is the only fact that is not true.+
Forknife by Edwin:
I sat there on 11/11 aka Forknife as the zombies overrun the town I could stop it should I I stood up and then I threw my fork in one fell swoop It's somehow shot behind me into human eye who is trying to help save the town the human introduced himself as Bob I'm just joking I don't know what kind of a name by still I didn't have time to figure it out I shut down the hill like a go cart just then the sun rose started to mutate into a zombie but it was too late I still going downhill I smacked into a wall when I looked up it said the Forkshop I ran away I never came back even after the werewolves infected it but that was less of my fear and more of me being asleep because I drink too much poison
KID was doing his usual things like going to karate and kung fu lessons but little did he know the next day would change his life forever.The next day kid’s dad woke him up very early and told him to look outside he could not believe his eyes zombies were banging on his door.Kid imedidity did what any young teeaneger would do and did kamekameha (a very strong punch move) but after a while he and his dad who were fighting the zombies were getting a bit exhausted then kid remembered it was forknife day
Forknife by Daisy
The day had finally come again to reunite with all the village folk and win the battle with forks! The otter, who had never told her real name, was ready to fight. Her friends in the village respected her reason to not reveal her true name, but still often wonder what it could be. Instead, her friends called her the trident fighter, hence her long trident-like fork she fought with. They all joined up, and with big smiles, they were all ready to start the battle. The otters friends, and other village folk that she didn't even know, all brought out their fork, or warrior sticks, as they liked to call them, and proudly presented them to the king. every year, on the hour before the battle starts, the king would come to judge everyone's forks, but it was no piece of cake! He would walk over and observe the warrior sticks that the village people showed him, and if you and your fork got accepted, you were free, and could fight for your own life, but, as the consequence goes, if the king doesn't like what he sees, you have to fight and protect him , not yourself.
So, even though everyone was scared,and wanted to survive another year, they gingerly showed the king their warrior
Forknife by Harine
Sitara couldn’t wait much longer to find out what had happened during Forknife. She had left to find the legend about the fork that could tell her all about her future, past and present. Sitara’s family didn’t really believe the legends she found except for her aunt and her dog. She had said that she was going out and doing her forknife tradition, killing zombies. She sat down, her long brown french braids pressed against her neck as she opened her fortune cookie and unscrolled the little piece of paper left in between the two cookies. To her surprise she had got alng note.
Dear Sitara ,
Along the river under the roots of the big oak tree is what you have been looking for. Take it home and find out how to save your little town from the Dracula that lives in the so-called “empty” castle, find him and suck the truth out of him. He knows you're there so don’t tell anyone else.
Sitara flipped the small page that was lightly burned by what she knew was a candle. She knew who had written this and insisted she save it to the traditional part. Her mother. Sitara picked up her fork from the ground and directed her black dog towards the big castle which was covered by vines. She ran and ran until she could feel the heat which came inside. She tried to place her hand on the drawbridge but it gave a big push and Sitara was on the ground somewhat 20 meters away. She knew the dracula was in there and she knew he knew she was there standing outside his castle.
Forknife by Mya
Emma loved the outdoors, she would walk around outside whenever she got the chance. But because of the zombies she couldn’t go whenever she wanted. Her favorite holiday was Forknife. She could kill zombies and if the weather was right, get to walk and fight under the stars. She loved star light and one night decided to go outside. She was fine for a while before she encountered a zombie. It glared at her hungerly and she raised her fork. The zombie pounced, mouth open wide. Emma jumped back and stabbed the zombie in the back and it fell over dead again. She sighed with relief, then from behind another zombie pounced it managed to grab hold of her arm. But Emma was well trained, she twisted and wrenched her arm free. She quickly turned and thrust her knife into the zombie’s neck. With a violent twist of her wrist, the zombie’s head flew off. Not wanting to have to fight any more zombies alone, she turned and ran back to her house hoping no zombies were chasing her. On the eve of forknife Emma and her family watched the parade and enjoyed the markets and feasts, but all Emma wanted to do was go out of town and fight zombies. Finally midnight came and her family was among the first to leave. They charged out of the walls and attacked any zombies who got in their way. Emma rammed right into a zombie who at one point must have been a very large man. She thrust her fork into the zombie, but instead of falling over the zombie looked down at the fork in his chest then looked back up at Emma. His disgusting face twisted into a horrible smile, he grabbed the fork with his massive hand. Then he pulled it out, Emma had still had her hand on the fork when he had grabbed it. He pulled her closer and opened his mouth wide, Emma struggled but he was strong. He had almost pulled her close enough to bite off her head when a figure stepped out from behind. The figure slashed at the zombie from behind, slowly the zombie’s head slid off and fell to the ground. The grip around Emma’s hand slackened and she pulled her hand out. “I didn’t need your help,” she said, rubbing her wrist. “Sure looked like you did.” Gaven stepped out from behind the carcass. “No i didn’t i had him right where i-” Emma glanced behind Gaven and noticed a zombie making a beeline for them. Gaven flipped his fork around; he preferred to use the long kind more like a trident than a fork. He thrusted it backwards and stabbed the zombie. It fell down behind him, he turned around and finished it off with a quick blow to the head. “Show off.” Emma mumbled she shoved past Gaven and ran off into the night looking for more zombies to kill.
Forknife by Evangeline
It was Jade’s first day back in their assigned camp, and they were ready for battle. Walking at a very fast pace for a person who just started to walk again, they strode over to the main tent. Inside was a large machine which led the squad. It was run by a particularly small man, but together they did the job and protected the country from zombies. Today was a rather good day, for it was ForkNife, the day of the country. On this day, the capital city would be an uproar with parades, markets and social gatherings. Jade was surprisingly happy to be away 5feedback of the communicators they had on. But secondly, the zombies came from a different direction. Normally, the zombies came from the West, and made their way through the warehouse, where the squad would ambush them. But today, the zombies heard the commotion from the city and changed course, a direct bee-line to the city that the army had sworn to protect! Jade and their squad took off running when they figured it out. Forks were firing small metal bullets, and some zombies fell to the ground. The other zombies realized what was happening, and turned around. Great, now the squad got their attention. Suddenly, a surprise group of zombies came from the opposite direction. Jade was surrounded! A horn could be heard in the distance, and all the battlers turned towards the hill. The captain had arrived! They charged down the hill, pitchforks in hand, and knocked out the enemy. A victory for the people that day! Jade sighed heavily, releasing all the stress from their shoulders. They knew that the city was safe, but couldn’t help feeling like they failed. The captain noticed their down-cast face, and reassured them with one, simple nod. Everyone was treated to warm soup and campfire singing that night, and stories were shared of the randomly stressful day.
Forknife by Huxley:
Chapter 1
It was the average day in Forktropolis, at least, as average as the caged zombies make it. There was just an outbreak a week ago, and the government deployed all these cages to gather them up. I was walking to school with my friend.
“How's life?” I asked.
“This is… about as good as it gets.” He replied drowsily. He’s been waking up at night because he has these dreams about killing zombies with a fork. Weird, right? So he’s been real sleepy in the morning, and these zombie cages certainly don’t help.
“That’s a really low bar for a good life.” I said walking backwards now. “I mean sure, there was a zombie outbreak a week ago that almost wiped out humanity but…” I trailed off, realizing what I was saying. I quickly started back up, this time with a more positive attitude. “But the government's got it under control now, and I hear they’re using the zombies for military training.” he stared back at me in horror.
“Virgil,” (by the way, that’s my name. Sorry I didn’t say this before!) he said, stopping is his tracks. I turned around and looked at him. “You’re not…”
“Oh yes I am. I’m turning 18 tomorrow.” I said, flicking my hair.
“Oh, you’re…” he trailed off.
Forknife by Kaslyn
Obley sighed. She was crouched in a small bush, waiting for the zombie. She glanced through the big opening. Why was she part of this department? One zombie at a time instead of five. Boring! Obley wished she was back at her house, baking her grandma’s cookies. Obley moved her head to the left to try to see what was happening outside of the Zombie Bushwatchers Department. Her leader, Tali, glared at her sharply.
“ Obley!” he scolded in a quiet whisper. “ Get back to your bush!”
Obley obeyed reluctantly. The person on the other side of her smiled at Obley in sympathy.
“ She’s doing fine,” the odd person told the leader.
Leader John glared at the mysterious person. “ I didn’t ask you.”
“ Zombies!” Hissed someone in a nearby bush.
“ Number?” Leader John barked.
“ Three! Color code, green,” hissed the voice back.
Obley felt herself turn red. Everyone knew each other.
“ Why did Mr. Tomas have to take my spot,” she grumbled as her workmates got up on their knees with their special binoculars that could spot even a crumb of movement.
Obley groaned and did as told. She spotted them immediately.
“ Leader! Leader John!” She hissed.
“ What, rookie?” he shot back.
Obley pointed to the moving pieces of green slime. Leader John shook his head.
“ There’s know way a no-brain rookie like you, Ms. Obley, could catch them,” Leader John sniffed.
Obley scowled. “ Oh yes, there is. You and your dumb team can’t spot the zombies I can spot in five seconds, while it takes your team more than 10 minutes.”
Obley stood up. “ And you know what?”
She brushed herself off. “ Goodbye.”
So Obley ran to back to her old group, killing seven zombies on the way, and was welcomed with warm smiles.
“ I knew you’d be back, expert,” her old leader, Leader Bana ruffled her brown, short hair. “ Good going, Obley.”
Forknife by Penny
Vampirioh tightened they're cape, tucking they’re raincoat in so nobody could see it, because naturally, it was quite embarrassing to be afraid of the rain. They glanced out the rain-splattered window, squinting their eyes to see outside into the dreary haze.
ForkNife was beginning in just a few minutes! They abruptly tugged the cabin door open and stepped onto they’re porch. Oh no…Rain…They thought, but still trudged onward into the slushy muck the downpour had created. Vampirioh had always been a top ForkNife champion, they had all the qualities that made a vampire great at stabbing zombies, courage, enthusiasm, (sometimes) , arrogance….stupidity….e.t.c.
“AAAAAAARGH!” They shouted immediately as rain poured down their raincoat. “WHAT IS THE POINT OF A DUMB RAINCOAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“Vampirioh, are you coming? The hunt is beginning.” A soft nearby voice asked, clearly holding back giggles. They whirled around.
“OH. Demona.” Vampirioh growled. Demona was they’re top competition, she was only nine (in vampire years) but was astonishingly a prodigy at stabbing zombies (nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty, creatures.) Demona was always trying to steal they’re glory, they’re ZOMBIE STABBING MEDALS. For the past two years, Demona had welded a better pitchfork, stabbed twenty five zombies while they had stabbed twenty four, and done everything to do with ForkNife just a tiny bit better than Vampirioh.
THIS WAS THE YEAR THAT WILL CHANGE. They told themselves quietly.
“Come on.” Demona repeated. “Pitchfork making’s about to start.”
Reluctantly, Vampirioh followed Demona into Transylvania’s pitchfork making space (specifically built for ForkNife). There was nothing better to do than be annoyed with Demona and feel sorry for themselves before the hunt began.
Forknife by Brynnae
Enna was running. Running as fast and as hard as she could. And really, that was FAST. Enna had scaly wings growing out of her shoulder blades that flapped as hard as they could as she ran, allowing her to almost hover over logs and roots and other tripping hazards. SHe thought she had lost them when… POM! A large roch caught her wing dead in the center and sent her spinning into a tree.
“Got her!” Someone called, and two boys raced into the clearing. “Oooh, she’s scared now!” Said the one on the left.
“Hello gazin.” Enna said as calmly as she could. It was hard not to grit her teeth with pain as she flexed her shoulder. “Nice throw.” Gazin looked confused for a moment, then he chuckled.
“Thanks. I’ll give you a demo sometime.” He cocked back his arm, and Enna sot into the sky. Surprised, she looked up to see a slender girl in a handsome blue suit attached to some kind of drone keeping her a float.
“You’re an idiot!” She called down to the boys, and they started to fly back to the Forknife celebrations in the center of town. “YOU’RE an idiot TOO, ya know. You shouldn’t have insulted his fork.” Said the girl, tossing her blonde hair in the wind.
“I know, Jazz. But it looks so stupid! The thing is a foot long covered in orange glitter. He thinks he can match this?” Enna Unslung her own pure obsidian fork from her back. It was four feet long with three sharp points and weighed nothing to her. To others, it would be as heavy as, well, obsidian. “You can drop me here. I think I see my mom.”
“You sure you won’t break your leg?” Jazz joked.
“I have WINGS.”
“Ok, ok. See ya soon.” Jazz giggled. She dropped Enna and whizzed off.
Enna landed gracefully in the abandoned clearing in the forest. Okf course, her mom was nowhere near here, and Jazz knew that. She knew what Enna really wanted, had wanted since her first Forknife. To kill a monster. A giant zombie so scary Gazin would pee his pants and scream like a little kid. She wanted to prove herself. To be strong.
“Dumb Gazin.” Enna growled, flinching as her wing throbbed painfully, Truth be told, she hadn’t REALLY landed that well, but her wing hurt! She couldn't tell Jazz about the stone he threw, or shed’ve told Enna's mother. Then she wouldn’t be allowed to go to forknife.
‘What if you get ambushed and can’t fly away from the zombies?’
“Pah. Stupid Zombies.” She grumbled. Suddenly, there was a snap in the bushes, and an earthshaking roar.
“YES!” Screeched Enna. From the trees lumbered a massive zombie, grey skin and a torn white shirt oozing blood. “FIGHT ME!” She cried. She heard shouting and cries of alarm from the town. They thought she was in danger? Hah!
“GROOOOAURGH!” Said the zombie
“ROOOOAR!” Screamed Enna. She leapt forward and sank her fork into the zombies chest. Or at least, she’d meant to. It turned at the last moment and Enna had to flap her wings hastily despite the pain so she didn’t faceplant. SHe turned around and stabbed the zombies foot, spattering her with little drops of zombie blood, ghostly white and translucent.
“YAAA!” Enna cried, and she half jumped half flew into a nearby tree. With a cry of triumph, she sank her fork into the back of the zombie’s head. Silence. Then… it started to tip forward. She only had time to pull her fork out and jump away before it hit the ground.
A crowd began to gather in the disturbed dust. As it settled, Enna saw most of the town had come to investigate. They looked worried. But also impressed. Someone hooted. Another cheered, soon the town was clapping nervously. They had witnessed someone great doing something great. They were in awe, and Enna loved it. She strolled into the clearing, fork in hand.
THE END
Forknife by Shaye
Starball Zombieslayer and his firebat named Fireball were flying through space. They were having a good time jumping through wormholes until Starball remembered it was Forknife, the day of the living dead. Starballs parents were thrown to the moon by zombies. So he told Fireball to follow him and they raced off landing on Prime Earth. There was no one to be seen. Starball started walking down long roads of tall buildings with weird twisting trees and plants sprouting out of windows. Right when he was about to turn a corner he heard loud yells and groaning. Starball and Fireball both slowly turned to see a horde of zombies dragging themselves toward them. Starball immediately flew straight up, charging his fire gauntlets. Right before he was about to fire a beam of flaming light, a weird shape emerged from the building next to him. It was a circular shape and when he looked at the sign of the building, fear struck him right down his spine. Out of the building came a giant zombie cookie. Starbal pulled out his trident at the speed of light and started blasting the cookie. The cookie fell backwards just to get up again pulling out a gun. The zombie cookie loaded the gun with mini cookies and right before it pulled the trigger it said: Brainssss and started blasting cookies right at Starball. Fireball didn’t get it so she opened her mouth and started eating them all. Then Fireball flew over to the zombie cookie and ate it in one bite. Starball landed and picked up Fireball telling her she was the greatest pet. But she just looked at him with a confused face, not sure what she did. Fireball had been with Starball for all his 300,000 years of life. Then Starball looked down at Fireball and they both shot a beam of fire light blowing the zombies up in flames. The End.
Forknife by Faryn
On the night of Forknife Forky was about to leave to hunt for zombies so she could test her cure.. After packing her bag with food and supplies, including her fork/trident, and arming herself with her gauntlets, she headed out. Closing the door of her small shack behind her she snuck around in search of an undead creature. As she wandered into a deep thicket she heard the groaning sounds of a zombie. Forky quickly dashed into a nearby bush and watched as the zombie crept by. If Forky made a single move or sound the zombie would notice her and bit her and that would be the end. So as soon as it was right in front of here she lunged forward and stabbed it in the shoulder. The zombie shreked and fell on its side. After it stopped screaming and fell asleep, Forky dragged its limp, but not dead, body back to her old shack. She laid it on the bed and got her cure out. She gently stuck the needle into the side of the zombie and waited. After a long time she began to notice the dead look of the creature became less…well… dead. The creature's skin turned darker like a real human. Forky stood up and shouted with joy. All was well until a sound of thumping came from the door. Then a mob of zombies burst in. Forky grabbed her huge fork and began stabbing at the zombies. She worked her way through until there was only one left. It lunged at her, knocking her to the ground. It bit her in the arm just as she pushed it away. She stabbed it and then bent down and examined her throbbing wound. Forky grabbed her bottle of the formula that she had created to cure the zombies, and a fresh needle. She poked herself with it and wrapped the wound with a piece of cloth. The formula did work so it had to work even before she had turned.
Forknife by Emma
8 months ago, Whiskas was a stray cat who survived on stealing food from
restaurants. But soon, people got mad at him for taking their food and started punishing him severely. So, just like that, poor Whiskas was too frightened to try to get any food from the restaurants, in fear that the people there would hurt him. So, he curled up under an abandoned truck and slept poorly for two days. When he woke up, he was starving, shaking and could barely move because he didn’t have enough strength. Just then, a witch dressed in dark blue robes with an unusually pointed hat walked towards Whiskas. When she saw that the poor cat was all skin and bones, she took pity on him. So, she cast a spell on him to make him fall asleep, then, she made him able to walk on both feet, hold things with his paws, and speak both English and French fluently. Right after she cast the spell, she whispered in Whiskas’s ear, “do me a favour. Fight as many zombies as you can with this fork.” As she spoke, she put a sharp, polished wooden fork beside the sleeping Whiskas. Then, she disappeared in a swirl of wind and Whiskas woke up a few minutes later to find himself with a strong urge to fight for his town and kill as many zombies as he could. And, ladies and gentlemen, that was how one of the most amazing heroes was born.
Forknife by Hugo
Late one evening 3 years ago jeff looked out the window and saw his granny getting attacked by zombies. Ever since he has fought zombies on fork knife from when the Bringer Of Night comes to when the suns first rays are peeking over the horizon. He holds mighty five tonged trident. So far he has killed 10,000,000 zombies.
Forknife by Laura
The Bringer of Night glided into the town on wings of forks. She looked like a graceful bird flying with ease, but flapping the wings was very difficult for her. As we know, doing difficult things with ease is the mark of a professional, which The Bringer of NIght most definitely was. She was older than anyone could guess and had killed more zombies than the rest of the town put together.
It was late on the eve of Fork Knife 100 years ago when The Bringer of Night sat in her treehouse with her best friend, a zombie called Fortuna. They looked out the treehouse’s small window and saw all the other zombies getting stabbed with forks. The screams were horrific. The Bringer of Night turned to Fortuna and was about to say something beautiful like, “I would never do that to you,” or some such lovely pledge of friendship, but she never had the chance. Two forks were plunged into her eyes and the last thing she saw was her dear zombie friends murderous face. Weakly, The Bringer of Night groaned, “Et Tu, Fortuna?”
It was betrayal in its finest form.
Since that night, The Bringer of Night was only seen on Fork Night. She spoke little, but would tell anyone who asked that it was her quest to seek revenge on all zombiekind, and that she would hunt them down until her dying day.
Although, no one was sure that The Bringer of Night shall ever die.
The tradition on Fork Knife is now that the killing commences only when The Bringer of Night takes her stab at the first zombie.
The Bringer of Night, being blind since…the incident, had developed a sense that allowed her to feel if there were zombies coming. Some said this power worked within a 10 mile radius, others said it was 100, and there are a few who will tell you she knows the comings and goings of every zombie on the planet.
And now to let you in on a secret. You know that spry little woman who runs FORKS,FORKs, AND MORE FORKS, the village’s fork armory? Well, I happen to know that she is The Bringer of Night. That is why she always wears sunglasses, to hide the scars. And if you tell her I sent you, she might show you. She still has the two forks that Fortuna used to blind her. She calls them Righty and Lefty. That last thing is the only fact that is not true.+
Forknife by Edwin:
I sat there on 11/11 aka Forknife as the zombies overrun the town I could stop it should I I stood up and then I threw my fork in one fell swoop It's somehow shot behind me into human eye who is trying to help save the town the human introduced himself as Bob I'm just joking I don't know what kind of a name by still I didn't have time to figure it out I shut down the hill like a go cart just then the sun rose started to mutate into a zombie but it was too late I still going downhill I smacked into a wall when I looked up it said the Forkshop I ran away I never came back even after the werewolves infected it but that was less of my fear and more of me being asleep because I drink too much poison
SCENE
Alice: (Wiping tears away) Oh, hey. (sniffles)
Ben: Oh no! What's wrong?
Alice: Oh nothing... just had a bad day. That's all.
Ben: You can do this! I think you're so brave and strong!
Alice: Well, you thought wrong for I am sad and a coward.
Ben: Don't be sad! I know personally you can get through this.
Alice: No you don't. I'll never be happy.
Ben: Dude, I just trying to help.
Alice: Well, I thank you, but I can never be happy again.
Ben: You know, you always do this and I always try to help you but it never works.
Alice: Wow. You're clearly not empathizing with me. I have SO much going on right now and you have the audacity to say that?!
Ben: You always have so much going on!! Obviously, at one point, you've had to be lying.
Alice: Are you victim blaming me? You're an awful person. You didn't even try helping me!
Ben: I've had enough of this. I'm leaving.
Alice: Fine. (She smiles)
Ben: (Walks away).
Alice: (Wiping tears away) Oh, hey. (sniffles)
Ben: Oh no! What's wrong?
Alice: Oh nothing... just had a bad day. That's all.
Ben: You can do this! I think you're so brave and strong!
Alice: Well, you thought wrong for I am sad and a coward.
Ben: Don't be sad! I know personally you can get through this.
Alice: No you don't. I'll never be happy.
Ben: Dude, I just trying to help.
Alice: Well, I thank you, but I can never be happy again.
Ben: You know, you always do this and I always try to help you but it never works.
Alice: Wow. You're clearly not empathizing with me. I have SO much going on right now and you have the audacity to say that?!
Ben: You always have so much going on!! Obviously, at one point, you've had to be lying.
Alice: Are you victim blaming me? You're an awful person. You didn't even try helping me!
Ben: I've had enough of this. I'm leaving.
Alice: Fine. (She smiles)
Ben: (Walks away).
Comics!
THE TUNNEL by Silvana
I woke up in a tunnel, it was dark and underground. I wake up exhausted not remembering anything from the night before. A cold breeze chills me blowing all around. All of a sudden I heard a scream coming from the other side of the tunnel. Without hesitation I raced there as fast as I could. My shoes became drenched ankle deep in dirty water. Finally I arrived, but all that remained was a blue hair clip. It looked eerily familiar but I just couldn't remember. I heard another scream. "Oh come on people, is this supposed to be some haunted house." I heard something crunch. I gasped and darted away as fast as I could. I tripped over my untied shoelace and fell down skinning my elbow. A flash of light flashed, shocking me. Some deafening thunder then boomed, startling me and hurt my ears. I turned to see that no one was behind me. The rain from above started seeping in. It was not a dream. Or is my mind playing tricks on me? Was there actually a shadow? I heard someone whisper my name. I jumped. But I then noticed once again there was no one behind me. My heart pounded, my throat swallowing. I was all alone. I was lost. I was scared. I was in a possibly life threatening situation. I was so confused. I didn't even know what was happening around me.
I woke up in a tunnel, it was dark and underground. I wake up exhausted not remembering anything from the night before. A cold breeze chills me blowing all around. All of a sudden I heard a scream coming from the other side of the tunnel. Without hesitation I raced there as fast as I could. My shoes became drenched ankle deep in dirty water. Finally I arrived, but all that remained was a blue hair clip. It looked eerily familiar but I just couldn't remember. I heard another scream. "Oh come on people, is this supposed to be some haunted house." I heard something crunch. I gasped and darted away as fast as I could. I tripped over my untied shoelace and fell down skinning my elbow. A flash of light flashed, shocking me. Some deafening thunder then boomed, startling me and hurt my ears. I turned to see that no one was behind me. The rain from above started seeping in. It was not a dream. Or is my mind playing tricks on me? Was there actually a shadow? I heard someone whisper my name. I jumped. But I then noticed once again there was no one behind me. My heart pounded, my throat swallowing. I was all alone. I was lost. I was scared. I was in a possibly life threatening situation. I was so confused. I didn't even know what was happening around me.
SECRET MESSAGES
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RIO Celebrates Eric Carle on Dead Author's Night
ANTS by Edwin
THE ZOMBIE by Hugo
THE CAT THAT WENT TRICK OR TREATING by Faryn
Household Marine Animals By Peter Katsnelson and Brooke
It was Anna’s birthday, and she dreaded every second of it. I mean, of course, for her sixteenth birthday, her parents could have gotten her a car, or a computer, or even a goddamned carpet for her room, which had rock-hard floors. But no, of course, her delusional parents had to go out and get her a fish.
Yes, a fish. A puny, cheap, little, pathetic goldfish in an equally pathetic glass bowl. Anna would have guessed that the last time she would have wanted a goldfish for her birthday was at age five, where she would remind her parents every day without fail that the only thing in the entire world that she wanted was a goldfish.
They listened eleven years later, where she had forgotten completely about the stupid little fish and had instead shifted her focus to a nice, clean red Mazda that she found on Kijiji for ten thousand dollars. And they gave her a goldfish.
It was difficult to not be rude to her parents, especially because Anna’s voice was always full of attitude. Her parents called it the teenage phase. They said she was a ‘growing woman’ and that her ‘hormones would start kicking in’ and that she was going through the ‘this is not a phase phase.’ Sometimes it was difficult to love her parents. Of course, she loved them with all the obligatory love she could give them, but if she met them on the street, they would not have been well acquaintanced at all.
Anna gave the most convincing smile she could muster. It looked more like a grimace, but her parents didn’t seem to notice, which left Anna somewhat relieved. Her mother took out her phone and took a picture while Anna held up the glass bowl with the goldfish.
“You look so pretty, sweetie!” Anna’s mother said in a sickeningly sweet tone, reaching her hand to Anna’s cheek to wipe off some mustard before once again attempting to shoot a picture.
“Thanks, Mom,” Anna said through gritted teeth. Finally, Anna’s mother took the picture with her five year-outdated Samsung phone.
“We have one more gift for you, honey.” Anna’s father exclaimed, handing her a small package wrapped in red. Anna’s heart swirled in her torso, dancing to incredibly quick music and trying to escape her chest. Could there be car keys in there? Maybe there was a computer or a new phone? Anna accepted the package from her father and shook it just a little. Inside pieces bounced around. It kind of sounded like lego. Anna hoped it wasn’t lego.
Anna’s parents watched excitedly as she pulled the wrapping paper off the box. She couldn’t help herself from frowning. Inside the box was a packet of fish pellets, wrapped tightly in a small Ziploc bag.
“Now you can feed the fish! Isn’t that cool?” Anna’s father said to her as if she were five.
“Yeah, great,” Anna replied sheepishly. Her words came out harsh and sarcastic. Once again, her ignorant parents didn’t seem to notice her attitude.
Anna’s father looked at his watch. “Oh I must be getting to work and you Anna to school,” He said formally. He picked up his briefcase. “I have a fish to pay for now!” and walked out the front door.
It was Anna’s birthday, and she dreaded every second of it. I mean, of course, for her sixteenth birthday, her parents could have gotten her a car, or a computer, or even a goddamned carpet for her room, which had rock-hard floors. But no, of course, her delusional parents had to go out and get her a fish.
Yes, a fish. A puny, cheap, little, pathetic goldfish in an equally pathetic glass bowl. Anna would have guessed that the last time she would have wanted a goldfish for her birthday was at age five, where she would remind her parents every day without fail that the only thing in the entire world that she wanted was a goldfish.
They listened eleven years later, where she had forgotten completely about the stupid little fish and had instead shifted her focus to a nice, clean red Mazda that she found on Kijiji for ten thousand dollars. And they gave her a goldfish.
It was difficult to not be rude to her parents, especially because Anna’s voice was always full of attitude. Her parents called it the teenage phase. They said she was a ‘growing woman’ and that her ‘hormones would start kicking in’ and that she was going through the ‘this is not a phase phase.’ Sometimes it was difficult to love her parents. Of course, she loved them with all the obligatory love she could give them, but if she met them on the street, they would not have been well acquaintanced at all.
Anna gave the most convincing smile she could muster. It looked more like a grimace, but her parents didn’t seem to notice, which left Anna somewhat relieved. Her mother took out her phone and took a picture while Anna held up the glass bowl with the goldfish.
“You look so pretty, sweetie!” Anna’s mother said in a sickeningly sweet tone, reaching her hand to Anna’s cheek to wipe off some mustard before once again attempting to shoot a picture.
“Thanks, Mom,” Anna said through gritted teeth. Finally, Anna’s mother took the picture with her five year-outdated Samsung phone.
“We have one more gift for you, honey.” Anna’s father exclaimed, handing her a small package wrapped in red. Anna’s heart swirled in her torso, dancing to incredibly quick music and trying to escape her chest. Could there be car keys in there? Maybe there was a computer or a new phone? Anna accepted the package from her father and shook it just a little. Inside pieces bounced around. It kind of sounded like lego. Anna hoped it wasn’t lego.
Anna’s parents watched excitedly as she pulled the wrapping paper off the box. She couldn’t help herself from frowning. Inside the box was a packet of fish pellets, wrapped tightly in a small Ziploc bag.
“Now you can feed the fish! Isn’t that cool?” Anna’s father said to her as if she were five.
“Yeah, great,” Anna replied sheepishly. Her words came out harsh and sarcastic. Once again, her ignorant parents didn’t seem to notice her attitude.
Anna’s father looked at his watch. “Oh I must be getting to work and you Anna to school,” He said formally. He picked up his briefcase. “I have a fish to pay for now!” and walked out the front door.
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Movies - Coming to a Theatre Near You!
Eli Smart and Caelan Bell at the Calgary Movie Premier of their documentary, Adaptation In The Impoverished City. Part of the Local Heroes film fest.
Horror Minions
Horror Minions
The Minions are creatures whose prerogative is to serve the most evil master they can find. If that doesn't terrify you, I don't know what will.
Themes - Capitalism, Society
Produced by Laika Studios
Production Bible - Pro: Sewage workers, found footage, they find out the Minions work for Bezos.
The Minions are creatures whose prerogative is to serve the most evil master they can find. If that doesn't terrify you, I don't know what will.
Themes - Capitalism, Society
Produced by Laika Studios
Production Bible - Pro: Sewage workers, found footage, they find out the Minions work for Bezos.
Big Boi Batman
Bowser Dies Tonight!
THE SECRET TUNNEL by Daisy Bathgate
Mrs. Barton's ruler stick was lowered. The lights were dimmed. The oak door that signed, ‘Mrs. Barton's room, no dilly dongs allowed’ was shut invitingly to block out hallway noise. It was spelling time! Spelling tests with Mrs. Barton, a middle-aged woman with a strict, selfish behavior was never pleasing and even though Barren Roosevelt would always try his hardest for scary Mrs. Barton would never get credit or even one little smile out of her.
“Attention! Here in my class I expect everyone to get these spelling words right. Now, get your golf ball brains to work. I'm watching each one of you, she pointed to Bruce Rienheart, who was fiddling with his shirt buttons. Get to work, I want to see those pencils moving!
Folders were put up to stop cheeky classmates from peering at other work across desks. Mrs. Barton slapped a two-page spelling sheet at each desk. She didn't bother to give out new pencils, as she guessed everyone had one lying around.
No one really knows who hired Mrs. Barton in the first place. Word spread around who would be with Mrs. Barton the following year, and rumors started saying that she locked up the students in the secret room if they didn't finish the spelling test by the time given.
“The timer has been set for half an hour. If I don't get these tests back to grade them by 12: 45, I will send them home with a letter to your parents. Now, get to work!”
“Ma’am..” Barren spoke up. Nobody had ever dared to speak up to Mrs. Barton, and it grabbed everyone's attention. They braced themselves, waiting to hear what Mrs. Barton would say.
“Oh Barren, what is the problem now!? Didn't I just say to get to work!?” Mrs. Barton huffed.
“Well, I don't have a pencil. I must of left-”
“Oh Barren! You know where the pencils are! Go get one from the supplies bin on the storage shelf, then get to work.” Mrs. Barton sighed, as if this question was too much.
Barren stumbled over to the supplies bin, a small woven crate filled with pencils and sharpeners for the students to use. Rummaging around in the bin, trying to find a pencil under the many notebooks and sharpers, He pulled one out and grabbed a blue handheld pencil sharpener, and went over to his desk, to start his spelling test.
“Okay. My name and the date,” he wrote his full name, Barren Jeremy Roosevelt on the line printed above.
“The first word is fluorescent. So, something bright. Hurry up, I'm not wasting my whole day on teaching grades 4 and 6 about words.” The class spelt fluorescent as best as they could. Fl-uor-esc-ent Barren wrote on the first line. Spelling out the words and writing them down.
The next word was country, then because, and followed by universal.
All the words were finished and the students sheepishly handed in the assignment.
Mrs. Barton fiddled with her pencil, shooting looks at the student that did not get a spelling word right. She plopped the finished work at each student's desk, and added her scrappy signature to the work that was correct. After Mrs. Barton gave Barren his spelling test back, he braced himself and eagerly peered at the page, scanning it for a signature or message meaning that he completed the spelling test. “Oh.. um there's none on the first page, well then the signature must be on the-” he flipped the page but there was no signature showing that he had passed the test. Barren fumbled with the spelling page, flipping and turning it frantically to see where the signature was. “No! Where's the signature?” Barren shouted in his head. “I must of- hold on when did I study?” Barren replayed the past days in his mind. He couldn't recall studying or even taking the spelling practice sheet out of his knapsack!
With all that going on in Barren’s head, he didn't notice that everyone had gone to recess. He got out of his chair and- “Mr. Barren Roosevelt! You can’t hide your bad grade to me, Barren. Come here, it's not everyday you get a test wrong.” Mrs. Barton got up and pulled a rickety metal chair out for the stack next to her, and slipped it right in front of her desk.
Barren’s head fogged up. “I have to talk with Mrs. Barton? Oh why did I forget to study? I wish I could go back in time to ace the spelling test again. Barren stumbled over to Mrs. Barton's desk, a dark, cherry oak semi-circle table with stacks of paperwork in a pile and a thermos of soup with a carton of milk as lunch.
“So, tell me about last week, when did you study?” questioned Mrs. Barton, trying to get the tea out of Barren about the failed spelling test.
“Well-” started Barren.
“I don't want a wellll,” mocked Mrs. Barton.” tell me when you study, it's simple. Maybe you forgot about some words, or didn’t practice all of them, but let's try to make this a quick conversation, hmm” Mrs. Barton raised an eyebrow like a detective questioning the robber.
“I um, must of, um forgot to.. Study?! Barren quickly added, “I have soccer and ya know, hanging out with my friends. Next time for sure I'm going to study. Barren nodded his head in hopes that the conversation was done.
“Hmmm.. Sounds like you are not taking this seriously. It's a spelling test. I've Had you and many others in my class for a while now, and I expect you to get used to my standards! Mrs. Barton raised her voice, getting impatient now.
Mrs. Barton was an unmarried lady. For they all guessed the reason why ( her temper and selfishness of course) ! She lived in a small, yellow-doored Brick townhouse 15 minutes away from the school. Mrs. Barton had an old, well-fed corgi as a companion, who joined her in grouching about work even on the merriest of days. Mel, was his name, and Mrs. Barton had Mel since university, and was still going.
“I am taking this seriously! I just forgot to study and that's why I didn't ace the test, of course. Just give me a break, everyone makes mistakes and you have to know that I'm not going to be perfect at everything! Sometimes you can just be the worst teacher ever!” Barren's chest was pounding. Yes, those words did just come out of his mouth. But somewhere, inside Barren's mind, and even if he didn’t like to admit it, he had enough with Mrs. Barton. Since he would be with her for the whole semester, he may as well try and make an impact to change Mrs. Barton's attitude.
Mrs. Barton glared at the boy, he, out of everyone that had been in Mrs. Barton's class was the only one that had talked to her like that. Even the older girls, who were the tallest and the smartest, would never talk to Mrs. Barton. The students would just leave her alone, do as she said, and try their best to ace every test. But, as Barren realized, sometimes standing up for yourself, or your opinion, can go a little… too far.
Tornadoes and wildfires were ambushing Mrs. Barton's brain. A big angry mess was swarming her mind.
“Show some respect!” In fury, she hopped out from her chair, brushed past the cold chicken noodle soup, and the room temperature milk, and rushed to grab Barrens uniform collar. Never would you see Mrs. Barton in this much of a mess and anger. Her slicked back bun had now fallen to her shoulders, and locks of thick, obsidian black hair caressed her face and pointy shoulders. She tugged Barren's white shirt collar, and walked him over to the storage unit, shelved with books, a work-in-progress bin and the supplies crate.
“Am I getting my eyes plucked out with pencils? That's the worst!” Barren covered his face, thinking about what he would do if he actually got his eyes plucked out. But Mrs. Barton was still at work. He took his hands off his eyelids and concentrated on what Mrs. Barton was about to do with him. Pushing him onto a chair, Mrs. Barton rushed to slide the storage unit away, and put aside the books on the ground. This was even worse than getting your eyes plucked out with pencils, infact, Barren would have rather that happen.
And there appeared a door, all dusty and cracked. Was this the secret room everyone was talking about? Barren didn't believe that, but was it actually real, or was he imagining it, from all that was going on? Mrs. Barton glared at Barren, and with one snag of his collar, and one push of his back, Barren was thrown into the threshold of the secret room. The light from the classroom was pulled away, and the secret room turned black. But even from the crack in the door, no light shone through. Barren was already cramped, and the cold air around him grew hot and stuffy, which was tiring him out.
Around him were papers, an odd sock, pens and bits of garbage gathered in the corners. But to the left of him, where the ceiling slanted and grew narrower, where wooden crates stamped with a number and letter sequence, 173GS4J. Barren was scared, wondering if this would be where he would die, but he didn't want that, and he wouldn't be giving up soon, for if there was a door in, there must be a door out.
At first there was silence from Mrs. Barton, but soon she started to giggle and pat herself on the back for ‘completing’ her plan. Barren felt weak from Mrs. barton. She needed to be stopped, For everyone knew that. But the most annoying thing was that around other teachers and parents she would pretend to be nice and gentle, and that’s how they see her as. Barren wanted to do something, but he didn't dare make any noise in case Mrs. Barton could hear him.
Out of nowhere, Barren heard footsteps and thumping from the hallway. But it was strange, because the sound appeared louder in the secret room then back in the classroom. Barren's first thought was that maybe there was a peep hole in the secret room that would allow sound to come in. Or, the walls in the secret room were thin, meaning sound could slip in. No matter which one was true, Barren needed to at least find a hole that he could peep through and access fresher air. Crawling on the narrow floor, Barren was in desperate need to get out. Something stopped him at first, but he then realized that there was a fork in the path. “Well of course that had to happen, just like in movies. They stumble across a fork in the road and then they get lost forever.” Barren murmured. But one thing, there was a light glow from one of the paths, but the other one was dark. Barren's first instinct was to go through the lighted up path, and so he did. He scrambled down the lighted path, and with each step, he gingerly peered around and behind him, observing everything around him. But suddenly, Barren's heart dropped. He heard and might have seen something towards him. He started to sweat and got nervous, as this shadow stopping his path was not a fork in the road. He heard whistling echoing through the path. The ground was now a dusty laminate floor, and he gave his knees and hands a rest from crawling on the concrete. The shadow was coming towards him. In a panic, Barren's voice rose to a clamor, “Who goes there?” he said. The whistling promptly stopped. And Barren and the shadow both stopped in their tracks. As Barren was closer to the figure, he had noticed just how small it was. The figure was holding a lamp and was wearing gray penny loafers, a red-trimmed bowler hat and a collared white top. As Barren was observing this creature, the mole broke the silence like nothing had happened. “Top of the morning! Oh, I haven't seen one of your kind in- what? Like two years. Did you get pushed in here from a teacher?” the mole asked like it wasn't a bad thing to be pushed into the secret room.
“Um, hi I’m Barren. So you've seen kids like-”
The mole cut in, “Oh, kids. That's what you are called now. Okay, well yes, I have seen many of your kind in the past. But it's been kinda lonely since they opened the secret door because kids that get pushed in there, don't dare to go past even the fork in the path because it's so dark and cramped. But thank you for coming Barren.” the mole said.
“You're welcome, I guess. Anywhoo, what's your name?” Barren questioned. “How long have you been living here?”
Well, my name is Ferdinand. Ferdinand the mole. And I've been living here for a while now. My parents abandoned me almost 5 years ago, because we were so poor and their relationship wasn't doing good. I don't know where they are. But anyways, I am happy enough living here. I get my lonely days, and my days with visitors, like you. Well, after all this, why don't you stop over at my place so we can continue our chat and have some sandwiches.” Ferdinand offered.
Barren did realize that he was very hungry. And if he was in the classroom, they would be having lunch by now, so he kindly accepted the offer. A broad smile spread across Ferdinand's pointy face. They both started walking in the direction of Ferdinand's home. Barren was scrambling to catch up with the skittish mole. He saw a comforting glow from the lantern above. This must be Ferdinand’s home, Barren examined.
Ferdinand trotted over to the magical oak door underneath the lantern. He got out some old, jangly keys from his pocket. He invitingly opened the door for Barren and they both stepped in. Barren was peering around Ferdinand's home. It was like something out of a gnome tale! The magic of the door made Barren shrink so that he didn't have to crawl around, but also kept everything in the house untouched and at the same size. Ferdinand took Barren’s coat and hung it up on the brass coat hooks mounted into the wall behind the door. “Wow, I can see why you can call this place home!” Barren complimented. Just as Barren was straightening up his shirt collar and brushing his hands on his pants, Ferdinand stumbled over to his kitchen and started to grab the ingredients for lunch. “Oh, pardon me, you can sit down.” Ferdinand gestured to a comfy-looking couch next to the fireplace. Barren sat down immediately and sunk his body into the couch. But soon after that he was sitting straight up and was talking to Ferdinand, still making sandwiches in the kitchen. “I just thought,” Barren started. “I've entered your fairy-tale of a house and it just came to mind that I started off walking down the narrow floor in the secret room and now it's widened out into a smooth floor clearing with your house in it?!” Barren questioned.
“Well,” Ferdinand said, placing a platter of turkey sandwiches and green grapes on the wooden coffee table. “There's definitely some magic here! When you walk to the two paths in the secret room, which I'm sure you have, there’s a certain path you must take. If you proceed down the light up path, which is the one you took, then it grants you with magic and it will open up the narrow path and take you to my house. But, if you decide to go down the damp, un light one, you will get sucked in and it will be hard to find the opening again and come back. But I'm glad that you found me. You are very wise and kind, Barren. I'm happy that you took the right path, and that we are friends now.” Ferdinand smiled, taking a bite out of his sandwich and popping a few grapes into his mouth. “Now, tell me about how you got here. I am surprised that you - such a well-behaved boy- got punished into the secret room. I mean, it's not so secret anymore.” Ferdinand winked, eating the last corner of his sandwich and listening in to what Barren had to say.
“It's kinda a long story..” Barren said.
“Oh, I love long stories! I’m sure it's a good one! Here, let's make some tea, to wash down the sandwiches with it.” Ferdinand promptly got up from his seat, took the empty platter into the kitchen and got the kettle boiling. It was a few minutes of silence, but the click of the kettle made Ferdinand spring up from the couch and got the tea pouring.
After that, with the steaming peppermint tea sitting on coasters on the coffee table, Ferdinand was ready to hear Barren’s story about how he got into the secret- or not so secret anymore- room.
“Okay. So this was earlier on today,” Barren started, glancing at the clock. “I was doing a spelling test and a forgot a pencil-”
“Okay, but you just forgot a pencil. It shouldn't have been a big deal.” Ferdinand cut in. “Sorry, you can continue.
“Anyways, I forgot a pencil and obviously I needed one to start the test,” Barren said, taking a sip of the hot tea. “So I went up to my teacher and asked for a pencil. She acted like it was the hardest question in the world, but I managed to get one anyway. But, it turns out I forgot to study. Anyways, long story short, she found out that I didn't study for the test, so she got mad at me. And then I talked back to her, and well, she got so mad that someone like me had actually said mean stuff to her, and now I'm here.” Barren said.
“Oh, that's weird that your teacher would do that to you. Wow, adults these days,” Ferdinand sighed,
“Yeah, but at least I found you.” Barren smiled.
“I guess I need to help you get out of here. I mean, you can't be in this place forever,” Ferdinand said, with an almost worried look on his face.
“Well, it's not the end of the world that I'm here. If I hadn't met you, then I would have been toast!” Barren chuckled. They drank the peppermint tea, which was a bit cold, but still enjoyable, and the cold peppermint taste left a cooling effect on their tongues. “I have a feeling that I'll be here for a while,” Barren winked. Ferdinand broke the silence by clunking his mug of tea down on the table as a sign that he was done with the meal. “Well, uh, what's the sleeping situation for tonight?” asked Barren, sheepishly.
“You gotta sleep here, I guess…” Ferdinand trailed off. “It's not a big deal, but you might have to sleep in my bed -it's very comfy by the way- or the sofa. Well, worst case scenario is that you sleep in the cellar. Trust me, if you sleep down there once, everyone agrees that you stay there. That's what happened at my family gathering, back in the day when most of my relatives were alive, and it was much easier to hold big gatherings. Nowadays you have to be careful with the day you have parties. Or even a small gathering with friends. I guess it's a bit different around here. You never know when kids your age get pushed into the secret passage,” Ferdinand sighed.
“Oh, did your parents live here. With you?” Barren asked
“Ah yes. It was me, my little brother Wesley, and our parents. Then we parted and, well, let's just say I haven't seen them since.” Ferdinand said. “Okay, back to the getting-you-out situation. We need a plan.” Ferdinand added, offering to change the subject. “I can risk my all for you, Barren. You are a great friend, and are welcome to stay here as long as you like, but without daily sunlight you will become weaker.” Ferdinand said, with a worried look on his face.
“Yes, but I take vitamin D gummies everyday,” Barren declared with a proud look on his face. “So I will still be able to survive,” he added with an almost unsure look growing on his face.
Ferdinand raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, but what's the plan on getting you out?” Ferdinand shifted deeper into the couch, getting sleepier.
“I say that we call it a night, and wake up in the morning to plan. I think I have an idea.” Barren said, acknowledging that they were both tired.
To be continued...
Mrs. Barton's ruler stick was lowered. The lights were dimmed. The oak door that signed, ‘Mrs. Barton's room, no dilly dongs allowed’ was shut invitingly to block out hallway noise. It was spelling time! Spelling tests with Mrs. Barton, a middle-aged woman with a strict, selfish behavior was never pleasing and even though Barren Roosevelt would always try his hardest for scary Mrs. Barton would never get credit or even one little smile out of her.
“Attention! Here in my class I expect everyone to get these spelling words right. Now, get your golf ball brains to work. I'm watching each one of you, she pointed to Bruce Rienheart, who was fiddling with his shirt buttons. Get to work, I want to see those pencils moving!
Folders were put up to stop cheeky classmates from peering at other work across desks. Mrs. Barton slapped a two-page spelling sheet at each desk. She didn't bother to give out new pencils, as she guessed everyone had one lying around.
No one really knows who hired Mrs. Barton in the first place. Word spread around who would be with Mrs. Barton the following year, and rumors started saying that she locked up the students in the secret room if they didn't finish the spelling test by the time given.
“The timer has been set for half an hour. If I don't get these tests back to grade them by 12: 45, I will send them home with a letter to your parents. Now, get to work!”
“Ma’am..” Barren spoke up. Nobody had ever dared to speak up to Mrs. Barton, and it grabbed everyone's attention. They braced themselves, waiting to hear what Mrs. Barton would say.
“Oh Barren, what is the problem now!? Didn't I just say to get to work!?” Mrs. Barton huffed.
“Well, I don't have a pencil. I must of left-”
“Oh Barren! You know where the pencils are! Go get one from the supplies bin on the storage shelf, then get to work.” Mrs. Barton sighed, as if this question was too much.
Barren stumbled over to the supplies bin, a small woven crate filled with pencils and sharpeners for the students to use. Rummaging around in the bin, trying to find a pencil under the many notebooks and sharpers, He pulled one out and grabbed a blue handheld pencil sharpener, and went over to his desk, to start his spelling test.
“Okay. My name and the date,” he wrote his full name, Barren Jeremy Roosevelt on the line printed above.
“The first word is fluorescent. So, something bright. Hurry up, I'm not wasting my whole day on teaching grades 4 and 6 about words.” The class spelt fluorescent as best as they could. Fl-uor-esc-ent Barren wrote on the first line. Spelling out the words and writing them down.
The next word was country, then because, and followed by universal.
All the words were finished and the students sheepishly handed in the assignment.
Mrs. Barton fiddled with her pencil, shooting looks at the student that did not get a spelling word right. She plopped the finished work at each student's desk, and added her scrappy signature to the work that was correct. After Mrs. Barton gave Barren his spelling test back, he braced himself and eagerly peered at the page, scanning it for a signature or message meaning that he completed the spelling test. “Oh.. um there's none on the first page, well then the signature must be on the-” he flipped the page but there was no signature showing that he had passed the test. Barren fumbled with the spelling page, flipping and turning it frantically to see where the signature was. “No! Where's the signature?” Barren shouted in his head. “I must of- hold on when did I study?” Barren replayed the past days in his mind. He couldn't recall studying or even taking the spelling practice sheet out of his knapsack!
With all that going on in Barren’s head, he didn't notice that everyone had gone to recess. He got out of his chair and- “Mr. Barren Roosevelt! You can’t hide your bad grade to me, Barren. Come here, it's not everyday you get a test wrong.” Mrs. Barton got up and pulled a rickety metal chair out for the stack next to her, and slipped it right in front of her desk.
Barren’s head fogged up. “I have to talk with Mrs. Barton? Oh why did I forget to study? I wish I could go back in time to ace the spelling test again. Barren stumbled over to Mrs. Barton's desk, a dark, cherry oak semi-circle table with stacks of paperwork in a pile and a thermos of soup with a carton of milk as lunch.
“So, tell me about last week, when did you study?” questioned Mrs. Barton, trying to get the tea out of Barren about the failed spelling test.
“Well-” started Barren.
“I don't want a wellll,” mocked Mrs. Barton.” tell me when you study, it's simple. Maybe you forgot about some words, or didn’t practice all of them, but let's try to make this a quick conversation, hmm” Mrs. Barton raised an eyebrow like a detective questioning the robber.
“I um, must of, um forgot to.. Study?! Barren quickly added, “I have soccer and ya know, hanging out with my friends. Next time for sure I'm going to study. Barren nodded his head in hopes that the conversation was done.
“Hmmm.. Sounds like you are not taking this seriously. It's a spelling test. I've Had you and many others in my class for a while now, and I expect you to get used to my standards! Mrs. Barton raised her voice, getting impatient now.
Mrs. Barton was an unmarried lady. For they all guessed the reason why ( her temper and selfishness of course) ! She lived in a small, yellow-doored Brick townhouse 15 minutes away from the school. Mrs. Barton had an old, well-fed corgi as a companion, who joined her in grouching about work even on the merriest of days. Mel, was his name, and Mrs. Barton had Mel since university, and was still going.
“I am taking this seriously! I just forgot to study and that's why I didn't ace the test, of course. Just give me a break, everyone makes mistakes and you have to know that I'm not going to be perfect at everything! Sometimes you can just be the worst teacher ever!” Barren's chest was pounding. Yes, those words did just come out of his mouth. But somewhere, inside Barren's mind, and even if he didn’t like to admit it, he had enough with Mrs. Barton. Since he would be with her for the whole semester, he may as well try and make an impact to change Mrs. Barton's attitude.
Mrs. Barton glared at the boy, he, out of everyone that had been in Mrs. Barton's class was the only one that had talked to her like that. Even the older girls, who were the tallest and the smartest, would never talk to Mrs. Barton. The students would just leave her alone, do as she said, and try their best to ace every test. But, as Barren realized, sometimes standing up for yourself, or your opinion, can go a little… too far.
Tornadoes and wildfires were ambushing Mrs. Barton's brain. A big angry mess was swarming her mind.
“Show some respect!” In fury, she hopped out from her chair, brushed past the cold chicken noodle soup, and the room temperature milk, and rushed to grab Barrens uniform collar. Never would you see Mrs. Barton in this much of a mess and anger. Her slicked back bun had now fallen to her shoulders, and locks of thick, obsidian black hair caressed her face and pointy shoulders. She tugged Barren's white shirt collar, and walked him over to the storage unit, shelved with books, a work-in-progress bin and the supplies crate.
“Am I getting my eyes plucked out with pencils? That's the worst!” Barren covered his face, thinking about what he would do if he actually got his eyes plucked out. But Mrs. Barton was still at work. He took his hands off his eyelids and concentrated on what Mrs. Barton was about to do with him. Pushing him onto a chair, Mrs. Barton rushed to slide the storage unit away, and put aside the books on the ground. This was even worse than getting your eyes plucked out with pencils, infact, Barren would have rather that happen.
And there appeared a door, all dusty and cracked. Was this the secret room everyone was talking about? Barren didn't believe that, but was it actually real, or was he imagining it, from all that was going on? Mrs. Barton glared at Barren, and with one snag of his collar, and one push of his back, Barren was thrown into the threshold of the secret room. The light from the classroom was pulled away, and the secret room turned black. But even from the crack in the door, no light shone through. Barren was already cramped, and the cold air around him grew hot and stuffy, which was tiring him out.
Around him were papers, an odd sock, pens and bits of garbage gathered in the corners. But to the left of him, where the ceiling slanted and grew narrower, where wooden crates stamped with a number and letter sequence, 173GS4J. Barren was scared, wondering if this would be where he would die, but he didn't want that, and he wouldn't be giving up soon, for if there was a door in, there must be a door out.
At first there was silence from Mrs. Barton, but soon she started to giggle and pat herself on the back for ‘completing’ her plan. Barren felt weak from Mrs. barton. She needed to be stopped, For everyone knew that. But the most annoying thing was that around other teachers and parents she would pretend to be nice and gentle, and that’s how they see her as. Barren wanted to do something, but he didn't dare make any noise in case Mrs. Barton could hear him.
Out of nowhere, Barren heard footsteps and thumping from the hallway. But it was strange, because the sound appeared louder in the secret room then back in the classroom. Barren's first thought was that maybe there was a peep hole in the secret room that would allow sound to come in. Or, the walls in the secret room were thin, meaning sound could slip in. No matter which one was true, Barren needed to at least find a hole that he could peep through and access fresher air. Crawling on the narrow floor, Barren was in desperate need to get out. Something stopped him at first, but he then realized that there was a fork in the path. “Well of course that had to happen, just like in movies. They stumble across a fork in the road and then they get lost forever.” Barren murmured. But one thing, there was a light glow from one of the paths, but the other one was dark. Barren's first instinct was to go through the lighted up path, and so he did. He scrambled down the lighted path, and with each step, he gingerly peered around and behind him, observing everything around him. But suddenly, Barren's heart dropped. He heard and might have seen something towards him. He started to sweat and got nervous, as this shadow stopping his path was not a fork in the road. He heard whistling echoing through the path. The ground was now a dusty laminate floor, and he gave his knees and hands a rest from crawling on the concrete. The shadow was coming towards him. In a panic, Barren's voice rose to a clamor, “Who goes there?” he said. The whistling promptly stopped. And Barren and the shadow both stopped in their tracks. As Barren was closer to the figure, he had noticed just how small it was. The figure was holding a lamp and was wearing gray penny loafers, a red-trimmed bowler hat and a collared white top. As Barren was observing this creature, the mole broke the silence like nothing had happened. “Top of the morning! Oh, I haven't seen one of your kind in- what? Like two years. Did you get pushed in here from a teacher?” the mole asked like it wasn't a bad thing to be pushed into the secret room.
“Um, hi I’m Barren. So you've seen kids like-”
The mole cut in, “Oh, kids. That's what you are called now. Okay, well yes, I have seen many of your kind in the past. But it's been kinda lonely since they opened the secret door because kids that get pushed in there, don't dare to go past even the fork in the path because it's so dark and cramped. But thank you for coming Barren.” the mole said.
“You're welcome, I guess. Anywhoo, what's your name?” Barren questioned. “How long have you been living here?”
Well, my name is Ferdinand. Ferdinand the mole. And I've been living here for a while now. My parents abandoned me almost 5 years ago, because we were so poor and their relationship wasn't doing good. I don't know where they are. But anyways, I am happy enough living here. I get my lonely days, and my days with visitors, like you. Well, after all this, why don't you stop over at my place so we can continue our chat and have some sandwiches.” Ferdinand offered.
Barren did realize that he was very hungry. And if he was in the classroom, they would be having lunch by now, so he kindly accepted the offer. A broad smile spread across Ferdinand's pointy face. They both started walking in the direction of Ferdinand's home. Barren was scrambling to catch up with the skittish mole. He saw a comforting glow from the lantern above. This must be Ferdinand’s home, Barren examined.
Ferdinand trotted over to the magical oak door underneath the lantern. He got out some old, jangly keys from his pocket. He invitingly opened the door for Barren and they both stepped in. Barren was peering around Ferdinand's home. It was like something out of a gnome tale! The magic of the door made Barren shrink so that he didn't have to crawl around, but also kept everything in the house untouched and at the same size. Ferdinand took Barren’s coat and hung it up on the brass coat hooks mounted into the wall behind the door. “Wow, I can see why you can call this place home!” Barren complimented. Just as Barren was straightening up his shirt collar and brushing his hands on his pants, Ferdinand stumbled over to his kitchen and started to grab the ingredients for lunch. “Oh, pardon me, you can sit down.” Ferdinand gestured to a comfy-looking couch next to the fireplace. Barren sat down immediately and sunk his body into the couch. But soon after that he was sitting straight up and was talking to Ferdinand, still making sandwiches in the kitchen. “I just thought,” Barren started. “I've entered your fairy-tale of a house and it just came to mind that I started off walking down the narrow floor in the secret room and now it's widened out into a smooth floor clearing with your house in it?!” Barren questioned.
“Well,” Ferdinand said, placing a platter of turkey sandwiches and green grapes on the wooden coffee table. “There's definitely some magic here! When you walk to the two paths in the secret room, which I'm sure you have, there’s a certain path you must take. If you proceed down the light up path, which is the one you took, then it grants you with magic and it will open up the narrow path and take you to my house. But, if you decide to go down the damp, un light one, you will get sucked in and it will be hard to find the opening again and come back. But I'm glad that you found me. You are very wise and kind, Barren. I'm happy that you took the right path, and that we are friends now.” Ferdinand smiled, taking a bite out of his sandwich and popping a few grapes into his mouth. “Now, tell me about how you got here. I am surprised that you - such a well-behaved boy- got punished into the secret room. I mean, it's not so secret anymore.” Ferdinand winked, eating the last corner of his sandwich and listening in to what Barren had to say.
“It's kinda a long story..” Barren said.
“Oh, I love long stories! I’m sure it's a good one! Here, let's make some tea, to wash down the sandwiches with it.” Ferdinand promptly got up from his seat, took the empty platter into the kitchen and got the kettle boiling. It was a few minutes of silence, but the click of the kettle made Ferdinand spring up from the couch and got the tea pouring.
After that, with the steaming peppermint tea sitting on coasters on the coffee table, Ferdinand was ready to hear Barren’s story about how he got into the secret- or not so secret anymore- room.
“Okay. So this was earlier on today,” Barren started, glancing at the clock. “I was doing a spelling test and a forgot a pencil-”
“Okay, but you just forgot a pencil. It shouldn't have been a big deal.” Ferdinand cut in. “Sorry, you can continue.
“Anyways, I forgot a pencil and obviously I needed one to start the test,” Barren said, taking a sip of the hot tea. “So I went up to my teacher and asked for a pencil. She acted like it was the hardest question in the world, but I managed to get one anyway. But, it turns out I forgot to study. Anyways, long story short, she found out that I didn't study for the test, so she got mad at me. And then I talked back to her, and well, she got so mad that someone like me had actually said mean stuff to her, and now I'm here.” Barren said.
“Oh, that's weird that your teacher would do that to you. Wow, adults these days,” Ferdinand sighed,
“Yeah, but at least I found you.” Barren smiled.
“I guess I need to help you get out of here. I mean, you can't be in this place forever,” Ferdinand said, with an almost worried look on his face.
“Well, it's not the end of the world that I'm here. If I hadn't met you, then I would have been toast!” Barren chuckled. They drank the peppermint tea, which was a bit cold, but still enjoyable, and the cold peppermint taste left a cooling effect on their tongues. “I have a feeling that I'll be here for a while,” Barren winked. Ferdinand broke the silence by clunking his mug of tea down on the table as a sign that he was done with the meal. “Well, uh, what's the sleeping situation for tonight?” asked Barren, sheepishly.
“You gotta sleep here, I guess…” Ferdinand trailed off. “It's not a big deal, but you might have to sleep in my bed -it's very comfy by the way- or the sofa. Well, worst case scenario is that you sleep in the cellar. Trust me, if you sleep down there once, everyone agrees that you stay there. That's what happened at my family gathering, back in the day when most of my relatives were alive, and it was much easier to hold big gatherings. Nowadays you have to be careful with the day you have parties. Or even a small gathering with friends. I guess it's a bit different around here. You never know when kids your age get pushed into the secret passage,” Ferdinand sighed.
“Oh, did your parents live here. With you?” Barren asked
“Ah yes. It was me, my little brother Wesley, and our parents. Then we parted and, well, let's just say I haven't seen them since.” Ferdinand said. “Okay, back to the getting-you-out situation. We need a plan.” Ferdinand added, offering to change the subject. “I can risk my all for you, Barren. You are a great friend, and are welcome to stay here as long as you like, but without daily sunlight you will become weaker.” Ferdinand said, with a worried look on his face.
“Yes, but I take vitamin D gummies everyday,” Barren declared with a proud look on his face. “So I will still be able to survive,” he added with an almost unsure look growing on his face.
Ferdinand raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, but what's the plan on getting you out?” Ferdinand shifted deeper into the couch, getting sleepier.
“I say that we call it a night, and wake up in the morning to plan. I think I have an idea.” Barren said, acknowledging that they were both tired.
To be continued...
Poetry!
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