Short Stories

The Party Bust 

By Georgia Butler

It all started on February 8th, 2011. My first time returning to school after “the incident”. You might be wondering what “the incident” is. Well, a few months back, in September, I was diagnosed with cancer. Sure, it’s good that I survived, but I missed so much. And with me being gone for five months, there is NO way I could survive at school. I go to a private school where there is gossip, drama, and many rumors. MANY rumors. Rumors have been lately about me. Some people say I got hit by a bus. Others say I moved to Florida. But I'm in New York, on my first day back at school.

 I’m Stephanie, and before I got cancer, I had a best friend named Polly. Polly and I were super close, until I fainted at a soccer game in our final. I got rushed to the hospital, and Polly never got to see me come out. I guess she thought I had died or something. But while I was diagnosed, she also found out a terrible mistake I made. I applied for the wrong college a few months before I got cancer, and I never told Polly because I was scared she’d be mad. Polly found out I lied and was very mad. She blocked me, and I never got to apologize because I was stuck in the hospital. And the problem is, I have to keep a good relationship with Polly because she’s the ONLY one who knows I had cancer. At least, that’s what I thought.

 I got to school hearing gossip, I got many weird looks, and I heard one girl blurt out,

 “I thought she had a heart attack”.

 Polly never told anyone. Spoiler: She did. Polly made a new friend named Laura, a mean person who probably doesn't like me. You could tell. Polly handed out invitations to her birthday party at lunch a few hours later. I got one. 

She smiled and said, “Get well soon”. As much as I didn't like how she mentioned I was sick, when I survived, I had to keep up good talk with her. Surprisingly, Laura wasn’t invited and didn’t know there was a party until someone texted her the minute before the party started. 

At Polly’s house, the whole school was giving gifts and presents. I gave one to Polly, and I started feeling sick, like I had a headache or something. I went outside the house to get fresh air when I saw Laura walking my way, looking at me. 

“Hey, Stephanie, is this Polly’s party?” she asked. 

I didn’t know what to say, so I nodded. Then, suddenly, Laura’s friendly smile turned into an angry threat. She looked me in the eye and said,

“I know you had cancer, and I know your hair is a wig, Polly told me.” 

How could she? I just told her I did, and I want nobody to know. She told me that if I didn't sabotage Polly’s party, she’d tell everyone about my wig since Laura wasn't invited. As much as I wanted to refuse and be unbothered, I knew Polly told Laura about my cancer, and at the time, I was mad and could use some payback towards Polly. I knocked over the drinks, spilled my sushi tray on Polly's pink dress, and knocked over the cake. Polly burst into tears, crying.

And then suddenly, as if the penny flipped, Polly looked at me and everyone at the party and said, “Well, Stephanie has the guts to ruin MY birthday party when she can’t hold on to her wig.” 

I was in shock. The Polly I knew would have never said that. Sure, I sabotaged her party, but I was in shock. Pure shock. She snatched off my wig and said,

 “Stephanie got cancer; her hair is fake!” 

I came out clean and told everyone I was diagnosed, which is why I was gone, and I never would have sabotaged the party if Laura hadn't told me to. The crowd then looked at Laura, still jaws wide open, and many recording on their phones.

 “Oh my gosh, Polly, so you don’t invite me to your birthday and expect me to say nothing?” said Laura, making an entrance.

 Polly confessed that Laura mistreated her at times and excluded her, but she has now seen how even more horrible Laura is. Polly apologized for exposing me, and we hugged. Everyone glared at Laura, and then Laura ran away and was never seen again. Polly and I went back to being best friends, and I got to switch out my application to go to UCLA with Polly as she wanted, so we both went to UCLA three months later—the end.

Whispers of the Abandoned House

By Yeva Bystritskaya

The moon hung high in the velvet sky, casting an eerie glow over the abandoned house at the end of Willow Lane. Sarah, a curious young girl who thirsted for adventure, stood at the creaking gate, her heart pounding excitedly. Legends whispered of spirits trapped within its rotting walls, their stories lost to time.

With a deep breath, she pushed the front door open, and it creaked ominously, revealing a dusty foyer filled with the scent of mildew. Shadows danced on the walls, and faded photographs stared back at her, their eyes ghostly in the moonlight. Determined to uncover the house’s secrets, she switched on her flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness.

“Is anyone here?” she called out, her voice trembling. The only reply was the soft rustle of leaves outside, but a shiver traveled down her spine, reminding her she was not alone.

Once she ventured deeper into the belly of the house, Sarah noticed strange markings on the floor leading to a narrow staircase. Curious, she climbed the creaky steps, each echoing her heartbeat. At the top, she found a door slightly ajar, revealing a dimly lit room filled with dusty old furniture and a large, ornate mirror.

As she approached the mirror, it began to ripple, and a face emerged—a young girl resembling Sarah, her eyes wide with urgency. “Help me,” the girl whispered, reaching out. Startled, Sarah stumbled backward, confusion swirling in her mind. Who was she? How was this possible?

Gathering her courage, Sarah stepped closer, her heart racing. “What happened to you?” she asked, her curiosity tinged with fear. The girl in the mirror explained that she had been trapped in the house for decades, cursed to relive her final moments. 

“Only by facing your fears will you help me escape,” she implored.

Understanding the connection, Sarah nodded, feeling a surge of determination. “I’ll help you!”

With newfound resolve, Sarah gathered the energy to confront her fears—her fear of darkness and the unknown. She grasped the mirror's edge, feeling a warm light envelop her. At that moment, the air shimmered, and a burst of energy surged through her, shattering the curse. With a final, grateful smile, the girl in the mirror faded into a light beam, freeing her spirit.

The house slowly transformed, the shadows retreating as sunlight streamed through the windows. Sarah left the house, no longer feeling alone but filled with the stories it still held, ready to tell the world about her adventure.

Becoming a Rizzler

By Celine Choe

Another day of being compared to my sister. Wow. Great. How surprising. For eighteen years, my twin sister Brianna was seen as the better sibling based solely on her rizz level. At school and home, I was called "beta," while Brianna was called "alpha." I've always swallowed my anger and hurt feelings because I thought I could do nothing. I washed my face with Dad's leftover $2 bar soap while Brianna washed hers with an $80 cleanser. 

As I was getting ready one day, Mom yelled, "Leanna! You're taking way too long to get ready. Whatever you're doing won't help with your low rizz!" 

I sighed. This was just another way our parents were cruel to me. Brianna gave me her usual bratty smirk as I put on an old, torn jacket and ran downstairs to eat breakfast. 

"Take your vitamins!" demanded my dad. Ever since I was a little kid, my parents had fed me these nasty vitamins that tasted like rotten grapes. Apparently, they induced frizz, but clearly, they weren't working. After I had gulped down my vitamins and eaten Brianna's leftover scraps, my twin walked down the stairs. 

"Good morning, honey! Did you sleep well? Let me make you a smoothie. Would you like French toast with cream and berries or buttered pancakes with banana and syrup?" my mom uttered excitedly. 

Gosh, my sister was always treated like a queen, I thought. On the other hand, I was treated like the lowest possible servant. 

A week and a half later, it was finally time to find out what college we were accepted to. We both opened our computers and checked our emails with anticipation. 

"Ah! I got accepted to the College of Skibidiville! Look!" Brianna screamed.

"Oh, Bri, I am so incredibly proud of you! Congratulations on getting into the single most prestigious college in the US! You are so astonishingly amazing! This deserves a big party!" my mom shrieked happily. 

Of course, my email had a message saying I had been rejected due to lack of rizz. I knew Mom and Dad would be ashamed of me. 

Dad asked me mockingly, "So, Leanna? What are your results?" 

I stuttered nervously, "I-I-I g-got re-rejected. Due t-to-" 

My parents and sister shared an evil smirk, and after a few seconds, my sister burst out in hysterical laughter.

"Haha!" she slapped her knee and bent over like people in comedy shows, "You got rejected? Not even wait-listed or anything like that?" 

Holding back the burning tears of embarrassment and anger, I shook my head. Dad snickered under his breath, and Mom joined in.

I ran up to my closet-sized room and broke into tears. I couldn't take it anymore. How was I expected to deal with this pressure and unfair treatment in the first place? The only positive thing I could think of was that now I could cry in peace and have some time to myself. At least, that's what I had hoped for. 

"Leanna? I can see your light turned on. You can't hide from me," my stupid sister said in a singsong tone. "Oh no, poor baby. Are you going to cry and pout about it?" 

Her question only made me feel worse, and after my twin was satisfied with the damage she'd done, she finally left me alone. 

My parents called me downstairs as usual the following day, but something was off. They sat at the kitchen table as if awaiting me for a while. 

"Leanna, we have something to tell you. We're just going to make it quick and clear," my dad said sharply. 

My mom took a deep breath and admitted, "I'm not proud of you, and neither is your father. We don't want to be known as your parents anymore. In order not to be known as your parents, we can't be. Long story short, you are not our child or responsibility anymore." 

I was devastated and in shock. "What? No! You can't do this to me! Where am I supposed to go? How do I survive?" I gasped out. I must've fainted because the next thing I knew, I was in the driveway of my home with no key to go back inside. I couldn't believe this was happening to me.

After three weeks of surviving off of my saved-up allowance, I had an idea. All these colleges accept people based on their current rizz level, but none helped improve the rizz level. Surely, there are a lot of students like me who want to learn how to have more rizz. I also remembered that my uncle, who was gentle and always treated me fairly, had a music academy downtown that was about to close. That's it! I would ask my uncle Bobby to take over that building where his music academy was! Thankfully, I still had my phone and hurriedly called my uncle. After a few minutes, he picked me up. 

"Leanna! I'm so sorry. How are you coping, honey? I heard what happened with your parents. I tried to talk your mother out of it, but she was stubborn. You don't deserve any of this," Uncle Bobby said apologetically. After we talked about my situation, I couldn't hold it in. "You know that music academy you're closing soon? Can I please take over it? Please?" I begged. 

I expected a mixed response, slight hesitation, or questioning, but Uncle Bob said, "Sure. Do whatever you want with that place; make it useful." 

"Wait." I replied in shock, "Wow, thank you so much! You're the best! Could you drive me there? I don't know how to get there." 

My uncle agreed to drive me to the building and help me settle.

With my uncle's help, I built up the business over two years. As I stood looking at my audience, I took a deep breath and looked at them, anxiously awaiting me to start my welcome-back speech. 

"Hello, students! Welcome to my very own Sigma School! A school that paves the path to your journey to becoming a humble and honorable rizzler!" I was hit with a wave of applause, and I smiled at my coworker, Mr. Mewer.

That's Not My Name

Madeline Duncan-Brook

As I opened my eyes for the first time, the sun shone, and the birds sang, but something seemed unusual. Unlike these past two weeks, I could see! 

"M-Mom?" I called out softly, but no one answered. I wondered where she could have gone. The comforting voice I had known from the moment I first woke up to the moment I fell asleep last night was nowhere to be found. Then, when I thought of it, none of my brothers or sisters were there either. I was stranded, left alone, and lost.

I surveyed my surroundings. An old wooden garage that smelled like mothballs enclosed me in its walls. All of a sudden, it dawned on me. I was alone. The thought raced through my mind in loops. I started to call out to whoever could hear. 

"Mom! Sister! Brother!" I called and called until the big wooden door creaked open, and a man stepped inside. 

"Shh, it's okay, little one," said the man as he picked me up and cradled me warmly. The man was friendly. He let me stay inside the house with him and fed me every morning and every night. 

One day, I heard one of the big metal machines clunking up the driveway. The nice man scooped me up in his arms and carried me outside. I did not want to go to the big metal machine, so I protested and bit the man's hands, but he did not give in. He carried me out to the machine, and inside was a girl. The man kissed me goodbye and handed me to the girl.

"Goodbye, little one," said the man.

"No! I don't want to go! I want to stay!" I yelled, but I don't think he could hear me. He turned around and retreated into the old house.

The big metal machine started to move, and before I knew it, the old house became smaller and smaller until it was simply a speck, and then it disappeared.

"No! Please leave me alone! I don't want to go with you!" I yelled at the girl. But she did not listen.

"Shh, it's okay," she said. 

After a few minutes of pestering, I finally fell asleep.

I woke up when I felt the machine stop moving. I looked out at the shiny barrier between me and the world, and the glowing speck in the sky was already starting to hide behind the tall, scratchy trees. 

The girl scooped me up by the light pink blanket I was lying on and lifted me out of the machine into another square, metal machine, lifting me into the sky. She carried me through a long hallway and past another door when the metal door slid open. Behind the door, there was a house. It was not big and smelly like the old house, but it smelled sweet, and every wall and table was white. There was a small yellow couch and, in the next room, a big, pink bed.

"My name is Charlotte." The girl said, "I think I will call you Rosie."

"Rosie!" I yelled, "Rosie is a Horrible name! I will be Isla." 

But the girl just chuckled and patted my head.

Later, Charlotte grabbed a bag of hard, chicken-smelling pellets and poured them into a bowl. She placed the bowl on the floor and patted the rim with her finger.

"I don't want to eat that," I said, avoiding the bowl. But I was hungry. "Fine," I said reluctantly, "I'll eat your smelly brown rocks."

I leaned down and chewed some of them in my mouth.

"These aren't that bad!" I said. I kept picking up pellets, chewing, and swallowing until the bowl was empty. I leaned down to the other bowl next to the one I had just emptied and found it full of water. I hurriedly lapped some water into my mouth to soothe my dry throat.

I sat by Charlotte's feet, watching her eat. Then I realized,

"Hey," I yelled, "You don't have to sit on the floor! How come I did!?" 

"Shh, calm down," said Charlotte. I'm done now," she said as she picked up her bowl and put it in the kitchen. All of a sudden, all the water I had just drank had gotten to me. I browsed around the room and found a nice, soft carpet. I squatted down and peed on the rug. After I had finished, I stood up and walked away to curl up on whatever soft thing I could find.

When Charlotte found the puddle on the carpet, she was not happy. I watched her happily from across the room, cleaning up my mess. When she finished cleaning, she leaned over to me on the soft, pink pillow I had found.

"Oh, I can't get mad at you, " she said, scooping me up as I struggled against her. I guess it's my fault for not taking you outside."

"You're sure, right? It's your fault", I scoffed.

"Well, let's go to bed," said Charlotte. For the next five minutes or so, I watched Charlotte get ready for bed. I decided to follow her as she finally curled up in her bed. I prepped my tiny legs, and after a few tries, I jumped onto her bed and curled up to sleep.

"No, no, no." Said Charlotte. "I have a nice bed for you on the floor."

"On the floor!" I yelled, "What do you think I am? I'm not sleeping on the floor." Charlotte tried to put me down on the floor, but I jumped up over and over again as she kept putting me on the floor over and over again. After ten minutes, Charlotte finally let me sleep on the bed.

When I woke up the following day, Charlotte fed me more brown pebbles, took me back outside, where I peed in the middle of the sidewalk and took me back upstairs. Then, I watched Charlotte click on her glowing rectangle for a few hours. When the bright, glowing dot in the sky shone straight above the apartment, Charlotte wore a white shirt and blue skirt. She then applied various colors and shades to her face. After about twenty minutes, there was a knock on the door. 

"Who is that?!" I yelled," Who are you?! What are you doing here?! Go away!" 

"Shh, it's okay, Rosie." Said Charlotte.

"First of all, that is not my name. Second of all, who is at the door?!" I yelled in response.

But yet again, Charlotte did not seem to hear me. She opened the door, and a man about her age stepped inside.

"Hi, Jack!" said Charlotte. 

"Hey, Charlotte", said the man, "Who is this little one?" Jack leaned over and aggressively rubbed my head. I looked over at Charlotte,

"I don't like him," I said.

Charlotte started to walk out the door with Jack. I began to follow her.

"You can't come with me, Rosie," she said.

"W-What?! Why can't I come?" I asked her angrily. Of course, she didn't seem to hear me. She continued to walk out the door, but to get her attention, I jumped onto the yellow couch and knocked a swirly blue vase off the small table next to it. 

"Rosie!" yelled Charlotte. "No! No! I don't have time for this; we'll be late." 

Jack just looked at me and started laughing.

"She forgets she's a dog sometimes," said Charlotte as she closed the door behind her.

"Wait! A what?" I yelled after her.

I ran into her bedroom and jumped onto her bed. I positioned myself on her pillows and looked at the mirror on her desk. I saw a spotted white and brown dog staring back at me. N-no, I thought in disbelief. 

"I-Im a dog!"

That explains why Charlotte couldn't understand me. 

"Oh no!" I exclaimed, "I broke her vase!"

I ran back into the living room and started to collect the pieces of glass and place them in a neat pile. Once all the pieces of glass were in a pile, I was so tired that I curled up on her bed and fell asleep.

I awoke at the sound of the door opening. I ran to the living room and watched Charlotte walk inside as Jake kissed her and left.

Charlotte looked over at the pile of glass.

"Rosie!" She said excitedly, "You cleaned up the glass! You are such a good dog."

I went up to her legs and nudged my head against them. She scooped me up in her arms and kissed me. When she put me down, she walked over to the pile and scooped the shards of glass into the trashcan.

"Let's go to bed, Rosie," said Charlotte, getting into bed. 

"Fine, you can call me Rosie," I said happily, curling up with her in bed.

Four Years later, I was lying in the warm sun of the barn, next to the cows of the farm that Charlotte and Jack bought when they got married. I heard the big metal machine pulling up in the driveway. J ran to greet Charlotte and Jack.

"Charlotte! Jack!" I yelled. I jumped on Charlotte's legs when they exited the car, but Jack shooed me away. I noticed that Jack was holding a weird pink basket. I followed them inside as Jack put the basket down on the couch. I curiously peered my head into the basket as a tiny pair of arms approached me. 

Charlotte smiled, "Rosie, this is Emily."

NEVER Give Up

By Benjamin Lalezari

Never give up, don’t quit, and do your best. Jonah was a young boy, six years old. He got a new bike for his birthday. Jonah was bubbling with excitement about riding his motorcycle. When Jonah stepped outside, a chill in the air made him shiver. The smell of dirt was in the air. Jonah walked outside to ride on his new bike. He wanted to learn how to ride it but didn’t know how to learn. He stepped onto the street, rough with the smell of car exhaust. Taking a deep breath, Jonah summoned his courage and placed one foot on the pedal, pushing off hesitantly. Jonah fell off of his new bike and got a big scratch. He didn’t show it, but inside, he was furious. He decided to give up. He quit. Jonah stomped inside the house.

Later that day, Jonah’s parents came home. Jonah told them the whole story. Jonah’s father sat next to him on the couch. “Have you watched Jaquon’s videos on how to ride a bike?”

“No! Who is Jaquon?”

“Just watch his videos and you will see,” Jonah’s father replied. 

Jonah immediately turned on the television. He searched for Jaquon and went to his videos. Jaquon explained how to ride a bike safely. Jonah went outside and used the methods Jaquon had taught him. Jonah was flying on his bike! Jonah was so happy to see Jaquon’s video.

“Thank you, Dad!” Jonah exclaimed.

“You’re welcome, son.”

Jonah and his parents went to meet Jaquon. Jonah thanked him for his videos. Jonah and Jaquon went bike riding for the rest of that day.

“That was so much fun, Jaquon!” Jonah said happily.

“Just remember, Never Give Up,” Jaquon responded.

Mission to Mars

By Asher Stevens

The elevator doors close as we head up the tower to enter the rocket. I don’t know how I’m allowed on this mission. I’m usually clumsy and not prepared. Theodore was the only one who believed that I wasn’t completely useless. The doors open. We walk out of the elevator; a catwalk is connected to the top of the rocket, where we sit. We head into the cramped capsule and wait for the countdown.

“T-Minus 10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. Liftoff.” The engines roared like a lion.  My heart was racing. My chest felt like it was being crushed. We watched the ground, worrying that something could go wrong. Thousands of individuals are watching Theo and me, hoping we become the first to set foot on Mars.

As we enter space and leave home, the sky becomes dark and empty. We aim to dock at a station that will bring us back to Mars. I see a tiny white speck—hopefully, it’s the space station. We get close to it and need to dock. Theodore is in charge of the docking. I tried not to distract him because this could cost us our lives. Slowly, we get closer and closer. I feel a slight thud—he docked successfully.

I let Theo go in first because he deserved it after docking. We explored the station; you could tell it was for long-distance missions. It had treadmills to exercise, tons of food, and water that could last a long time. Theo and I split up because we wanted to explore different areas since we would be here for a long time. I decided to head for food and water.

I was floating around and needed to stop myself. I put my hand out in hopes of stopping me. “Click.” The airlock opens, and our food flies out. I rush to press the button to close it. “Click.” The airlock closes, but more than a third of the food is lost. If there hadn’t been a door separating my area from the food, I would’ve also been launched out. There isn’t enough food to make it to Mars. We would probably need to cancel the mission and head back home.

The food floats about seven feet away from the airlock. It could be possible to save the food and continue the mission. I would need to go out of the airlock and attach a tether to me so I wouldn’t get lost. 

The airlock opens, and I attach the tether to a clip to keep me from floating away. I see about fifteen cans of food. I make sure the tether is secured and pushed off. I can grab one before pulling on the tether to get back. I build up confidence and push off again, and I can hold three this time, two in my left hand and 1 in my right. I put the food I could save in the airlock and go again to grab more.

I open the airlock and try throwing a few cans into there. Luckily, I didn’t miss it. After a while, just two were left, but they were the farthest, maybe ten feet away. I double-check the tether again to make sure I’m safe. I push off and reach for the can, but I can’t get it. I take the tether off but hold it in my left hand as I use my other hand to reach. I grabbed one and returned it to the airlock; the other was slightly farther, so I couldn’t catch it.

When I returned to get the final one, I couldn’t reach it, even if I held the tether in one hand. I could only get it by letting go of the tether. I release the tether and reach as far as I can. I had caught it, but now I needed to take it back. I couldn’t grab the tether again. I needed to throw something in the opposite direction to propel me back. I looked for something on my suit that I didn’t need. I realized the only thing I could throw was the can of food. I throw the can as hard as I can towards space. I float slowly toward the tether until I can grab and attach to it. 

I enter the airlock with a sigh of relief. I put the cans of food where they were. We would be able to continue the mission. I choose not to tell Theo because it would probably make things worse. I look out the window and see Earth slowly shrinking as we leave Earth's orbit and head to Mars.