Minutes To Midnight
I have learned through experience
That humans are destructive, selfish beasts.
All of mankind is out to destroy each other,
And the world we live in,
For no reason other than
Fame, power and riches.
It’s a few minutes until midnight.
Is it too much to remember the goals of our ancestors?
To dream for a better world,
And not an unrighteous crusade?
To not destroy all the good that is left inside of us.
Do the dreams of our fathers and mothers mean nothing today?
It must be
Because we are sprinting
Towards our own self destruction.
It’s a few minutes until midnight
Flooding disappointment is what i feel.
We are not broken beyond repair
Or lost where no saving light can guide us.
We just refuse to acknowledge
It’s a few minutes until midnight.
THE TUBAS ARE COMING
I was sitting at the counter of a cafe in what could be considered the ‘bad part of town’ trying to drown my woes in coffee and waffles. I had made a mistake. A big mistake. The short version is that I needed help and I got it from the wrong people….or rather….brass instruments. Today was the day I was supposed to hold up my end of the bargain, and I didn’t have anything close to what they had asked me for. The waitress was giving me shady glances. She probably knew. She handed me the bill and pointed towards the door. She definitely knew. I paid and left, the collar of my coat turned up to obscure my face as much as possible.
The streetlights flickered as I walked, or rather jogged, down the street trying as much as possible not to draw attention towards myself. Maybe I can survive tonight and they’ll leave me alone! I hoped. Because desperately clinging to hope like a life raft will definitely stop a gang of angry tubas from killing me. Suddenly, all the streetlights went out at once. My heart started pounding like some sort of machine. Then, the streetlight in front of me illuminated revealing a tuba the size of a human in a beige trench coat and hat. It made a deep piercing noise. The tubas didn’t speak English, but everyone knew their language somehow, no one really cared to study it. Their language and ways of defying all natural laws of life were the least of our problems.
I started running faster than I had ever ran before, down the alleys and jumping over dumpsters. I turned a corner to find a dead end. My heart was racing faster than the speed of light. I heard a deep, menacing note from around the corner as the head of the Tuba Mafia appeared.
“Please! Don’t hurt me! I promise I’ll get you the money!” I pleaded. But it was too late. From his trench coat the Tuba withdrew a revolver and promptly unloaded it into my skull. Examples had to be made. And now no one would laugh at the name of the Tuba Mafia.
The Girl with the Suitcase
A girl as pale as a ghost ran down a hill panting, her suitcase swinging wildly in her hand. She stopped to catch her breath behind a tree when a gunshot off in the distance sounded from behind her. She continued running through the dense trees and to a road where she stopped, sure she was safe, and set down her suitcase. She looked down at her watch and took a piece of paper from her suitcase. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the headlights of an approaching car. She took a deep breath and leaped into the road, just in time for the car to hit her.
A middle aged man with a plaid hat and greying mutton-chops ran out of the car. He knelt over the girl and felt her wrists for a pulse. While he was grabbing her arm he found the paper she put in her hands before she died. It read;
TAKE THE CASE AND RUN
The man, whose name was Jack, did as he was asked. He threw the case into his car and drove as fast as he could go. Past the village and all the way to the ocean. He knelt down in the sand on the shore, set the case down in front of him and opened it. Inside was another note;
Guard this with your life. I’m so very sorry to put this burden upon you.
Beneath the note was a cloth, wrapped in the cloth was a golden pocket watch. Perfect in the sense that there was nothing wrong with it, not a single scratch or mark to make the surface look anything less than beautiful. The face of the watch was decorated with a map of the night sky and the hour and minute hands resembled shooting stars. Jack fiddled around with the watch speculating as to why the girl found it so special and why he had to protect it. Jack noticed that the watch hands weren't moving so he turned a little knob on the side to see if that would make them move. It suddenly grew much windier. Sand scratched his skin and the salty air threatened to blow his hat all the way to Ireland. He retreated to his car, holding his vest up over his nose and mouth. Once he was inside his car he looked back at the watch and finished synchronizing it with his own, the hands still didn’t move. He pushed the knob back into place. The wind had stopped as suddenly as it had begun. He tried turning the knob again to see if there was a connection between the two events, and sure enough the wind had started to blow hard again. He fixed the knob and stared down at the watch with befuddled amazement and fear. What was this thing?
Jack heard a knock on his car door and opened it, he suspected it was the police telling him that he wasn’t allowed to park on the beach. But when he opened the door he say a pale girl with pale blonde hair tied into two braids. Jack gasped. It was the girl he ran over. “Y-y-how are you alive?” he stammered.
“I was dead?” she replied nonchalantly. Jack stared at her mouth agape. “I can tell you what’s going on if you’d like.” He nodded, unsure of whether he should run or stay and listen. He chose the latter. “Do you have the watch?” he nodded and held it out to show her. “That watch allows the user to travel through time without paradoxes. Have you noticed that the wind grew stronger? When you travel through time that happens, you fall out of normal reality temporarily until you push in the knob on the watch. But be warned, if you don't go back to normal reality regularly, your body will age rapidly and you will die. You can only travel one week forward or backward before the accelerated aging starts. Do you understand?” Jack nodded, barely comprehending what she was saying. “Good. Jack, there are bad people in the world. People who want to change history for the worse. You and I are the only ones who can stop them. Don’t trust anyone, stay safe and protect the watch at all costs.”
“Why can’t you do it? What do you need me for?” the girl was quiet for a while. Then she turned the knob, gave Jack the watch, and sent him back to the present.
A horse drawn buggy trotted down the grey cobblestone roads of London. The bleak streets were crowded with stores and beggars and fancy folk. People of all backgrounds and stretches of life converging in one place to buy some slop. It made Pearl’s stomach churn at the sight of it. Humans did not deserve to be treated like pigs.
The buggy stopped several miles down the road at an event hall. All the most prominent political figures were meeting there tonight. Pearl stepped out of the buggy in a suit and top hat; she figured that if she wanted to be heard then she must first blend in with the slime that was poisoning her city. Once she was fully out of the buggy a new wave of fear washed over her. Failure was not an option, but it was becoming the most probable outcome. She couldn’t let everyone down…
Pearl felt an arm around her waist. “Are you alright?” Gabriella asked. Pearl shook her head ‘no’ too frazzled to formulate sentences. “Don’t worry, you’ll be great,” Gabriella said before walking away. “By the way you look smashing tonight,” she said before entering the hall. Pearl blushed, she felt like she was glued to the curb. She smiled, readjusted her top hat and marched in, the utter image of confidence.
The Lovely Smell of Toxic Waste
By Teadora, AJ and Mackenna
“Excuse me I don’t think that green slime is edible.”
“But it smells so good….”
“That’s my cologne. Well would you look at that sign?”
“The one that says “Hey idiot! This is toxic waste!”
“Heh….little too late for that.”