miserable? I'm ruining my childhood. I'm letting my family down. “I’m worthless,” I whisper. The words feel too dense for the air, falling to the cement floor like bricks. Maybe because I said it out loud, or the intense emotion just ran its course, but either way I begin to calm down, my tattered breath returning to normal. I look up and unclench my fists, then take a deep breath and stand up on shaky legs. I survey myself in the dirty mirror that leans against a stack of totes full of clothes and books. I got the mirror off of the side of the road a few months ago because I thought I could make something cool out of the glass. My reflection looks almost as worn as the once-elegant trim. There are faint bags under my eyes, and my skin is sticky and gross, besides the fact that I’m beet red. My dirty blonde hair is a mess, and my arms look thin under my big t-shirt. I shrug. I look like the protagonist of a very dramatic movie. Pre glow up, of course. I giggle at that. Yeah, I’m a hot mess, but I’m not in a coming of age movie yet. Plus, I don’t have the right body type to be the protagonist of anything. Most days I feel too small for my body. Sighing, I head inside to refill my water bottle.

I pause outside for a moment, letting the cool air calm my nerves, maybe freeze out the rest of my dramatic thoughts. I’m careful not to let the house's front door squeak, but it doesn’t matter, anyway. The only light I can see is the dim glow from the lamp in the kitchen. It's enough to illuminate my younger sister, Alex, who is sitting at the table wearing a red t-shirt. “Hey, Brooks,” she says nonchalantly.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Am I not allowed to eat cheese balls at 10:30pm?” Her green eyes twinkle, and her high ponytail looks surprisingly bouncy for this time of night. 

I can’t help laughing. “It isn’t wise,” I point out.

“Eh, I’ll live. What were you doing in the garage?”

“You know I like to craft in the garage.” That isn’t a lie. All of my supplies are out there since it has more space and less carpet than our shared bedroom. I never said I was crafting now.

“Weirdo,” she says as I make my way back to the door, water bottle filled.

I stick my tongue out as I escape, still smiling for a moment. Then I let out a sigh. The whole exchange was so normal. She doesn’t know anything is wrong. To be fair, I have way better control when I’m with people. At least, over things like this. Truthfully, I might flip out about little things, like, multiple times a week. I really can’t hold it together. But I can hide some things. I don't tell anyone that I feel like life is running away. That I think everything I do and say is wrong and my existence itself is a waste of time and energy. No, I just complain loudly for entire afternoons about schoolwork, or freak out when I can't find the shirt I want to wear, or cry for two hours when my sister says something even slightly offensive. I might as well scream from the rooftops that I’m stressed. If I were nicer, I wouldn’t. I feel horrible when my mood affects the rest of my family, but I have no self control. I have to let my feelings out. If only I could tell them the reason just as easily. It's not like I'm really trying to hide anything, because I can't, I just feel like they don’t get it. I’m screaming, but nobody really hears what it is that I’m saying.

Still, maybe Alex doesn’t know that anything is wrong because when I spend time with her nothing is wrong. Much as it hurts that nobody knows what’s going on, sometimes I need a reality check. She doesn’t give me the time to be worried or confused because with her I'm too busy giggling over something stupid or we’re mercilessly skipping each other’s turns in Uno. She’s my bright side, my chill pill, my personified therapy. My sister is my best friend. 

It's just that if I'm being completely honest, I don’t know if she’d even care that I’m upset. That's what scares me most.

I know I’m being stupid. Why should she care? There’s nothing to care about. I’m inventing problems. It’s an illusion for me alone. She has her own life, and probably her own problems. She is the one with the learning disorder, after all. I’ve seen her crying to Mom about her struggles, though she’s usually strong. Gosh, I’m so selfish. I should be worrying about her instead of being upset that she isn’t worrying about me when there’s nothing to worry about. You see what I mean by dumpster fire now, right?

Putting my complicated thoughts and instinct to keep breathing way too fast aside, I reenter the garage and force myself to focus back on my tablet, which is open to a YouTube dance tutorial. Dancing is probably one of the reasons I'm even in this state of mind right now, but it's also something I love to do. I'm dumb like that. I dance all the time for fun, but it's not like I'm any good at it. Now's as good a time as any to change that, though. And if I give my stupid fat body some excercise in the process, that won't hurt, either. Dancing is only one of my many projects (sometimes I feel unaccomplished and empty if I don't have enough short term goals to work on), and lately it's been hard to keep up with all of my endeavors plus school. That's not even to mention family or friends. My entire life feels off kilter, but I really do love to dance, even if the garage is a small practice space. So I turn up the music and focus. 

I'm currently trying to learn "Can't We Just Leave The Monster Alive?" by TXT. I just need to hear, “It’ll be alright, alright, alright,” because right now my whole body is telling me that it will most certainly not be alright. But I don't have to think as I follow the screen propped up against the mirror and the beats playing in my ears. All I have to do is move my body in a certain way, a bounce here and a twist there, and suddenly I'm dancing, and then it's just me and the music and the sweat on my back. And for a while I truly feel alive.

That's until I try to perfect the pre-chorus. I replay Yeonjun’s key footwork around fifteen times, but I just can’t keep the steps in my head. They’re probably bouncing off of the same suffocating wall that keeps reflecting all of my thoughts back onto each other in one big jumble. After another ten minutes or so, I’ve gotten exactly nowhere. Glaring at my reflection in the mirror, I decide that I will keep going until I get it. Twenty minutes later, I’m kicking the wall in defeat.

I decide to work on another end of the world issue instead: crafting. Funny story on that:

"Hey, Brooks, just coming to check on you," Dad said yesterday. He ducked to avoid hitting his head on the hanging light as he entered the garage. A breeze followed him through the door, cooling my face as I hurriedly turned off the phone and went to stand by my craft desk. I pretended I was busy with the glue gun, but it really wasn't even plugged in. "How're the crafts coming?"

"Good," I said casually, even as my mind flickered to the Etsy order I had yet to start.

"You're doing that show with Aunt Dede on Saturday, right?"

Shoot. Shootshootshoot.

"Oh, I almost forgot! Yup!" Or did forget and completely screwed myself. Whatever.

"You've been working hard out here lately. You should be pretty well prepared."

"Uh-huh! Definitely!" Nope. I was not prepared. Not at all. In fact, I was doomed.

I grabbed the phone to text Aunt Dede as soon as Dad left. Scooching myself up to sit on the hood of our old lawnmower, I typed, "R we still doing the craft fair Saturday?"

Her response came through seconds later: "Of course! I'll pick u up at 8."

"K, how much are you bringing?"

"I was going to do 20 hats and 10 paintings. Why?"

"Just trying to figure out how much I should bring." 

'And make,' I thought as I sent the message.

"I'd say around 20 key chains and 20 headbands. Are u doing shirts?"

I bit my lip, drumming my fingers on the back of the phone. I had five key chains made, and the materials for at least fifteen more. I also had the decorations for the headbands, but not enough plastic bases. T-shirts are fun to decorate, but I wasn't sure I had time. Six days to make fifteen key chains and twenty headbands was bad enough. I'd also need to buy more plain shirts. It probably wouldn't be worth it. Screw that. I could do it. It should've been started already, anyway. "Yeah, will 10 shirts be ok?" I typed.

"Sounds perfect."

I smiled. Perfect. I could do this.

So now I set to work. One key chain, four headbands, and a few paint stains on my jeans later, I'm so tired I can hardly stand up without wanting to die on the spot. Besides that, the garage is freezing. I reluctantly trudge back to my bedroom, where I find Alex fast asleep. The wise decision would be to go to bed myself, but do I? Nope. Instead I find myself eating chocolate ice cream out of the carten while watching YouTube at one in the morning. Sighing, I finally turn the device off. I didn't care about anything when it was on, but now I have to–ugh–think. Why am I so stupid? One in the morning on YouTube, yet I can't bear to keep working on things that need done. If I put so much pressure on myself that it causes this weird anxiety thing (which it shouldn't), I could at least hold myself to my standard. I'm being all dramatic, yet I'm still so light on myself. Some days–or nights–the world feels impossible. 

I don't have much trouble falling asleep, my body tired and my mind quickly falling back into the digital world. Of course. I'm pathetic. I do have lots of trouble waking up in the morning, but I eventually drag myself out of bed. It's an hour later than I want it to be, which fills my chest with a tight frustration, but I push past it and open my computer to begin classes.

I realize it's open to a coding screen. That's the other thing I've been working on.

I was headed to the garage with my phone last week when I glanced down and quickly changed my plans. I saw a text from my friend, Zara. "You busy?" She asked. 

I had a feeling I knew where this was going, so I replied with a, "Nope!" Sure enough, I was soon riding my bike down the road, my heart thumping a little too hard. The sky was bright, yellow leaves crossing my path as I pedaled harder. Cold air snapped at my cheeks, and I breathed it in happily.

My heart beat even faster when I came to the end of the road. As always, I hesitated at the light, even when there were no cars coming. I wondered if I should turn back, but I didn't. Eventually I rolled into the busier road and made my way down, towards the park. I flinched every time I heard the whirr of tires behind me, and I could barely see past the tangle of blonde hair flying into my eyes, but the speed made me feel alive.

Zara was already on the swings when I swerved through the gate, skidding on the gravel. "Yo!" I called with a smile, half waving as I hopped off of the seat and put my kickstand down. "Nice hair," I added, observing the purple and blue mixed into her rich brown locks that peaked out from underneath her beanie.

"Thanks, I died it myself," she said airily, brushing it off of her shoulder.

"No you didn't," I told her.

"Fine. They're clips."

"That explains the beanie."

"What? It's cold out."

"Uh-huh." I sat down on the swing beside hers. "So-ome things never cha-ange!" I sing-songed. I knew the clips were horribly scattered on top of her hair, just like she had worn them when we were nine. That had been when I went to public school. Since I started cyber schooling this year, I haven't seen as much of Zara, so it was a relief to know she was still the same goofball.

"Ugh, not Frozen!" Zara protested.

"Come on, you used to have a Frozen backpack," I reminded her.

"Used to. Meanwhile you still have a Hello Kitty T-shirt."

"Hello Kitty is cool, and I bet that backpack is still in your closet."

"I hate you," she informed me. We laughed, our voices echoing across the deserted playground. I kicked hard at the ground as Zara started playing music off of her phone. Soon I was going much higher than she was, practically flying away from the world. For a moment I envisioned the chain breaking. I would just fly forever. I shared this idea with Zara, and she laughed at me. "That would hurt," she commented.

I giggled. "Whatever."

Truthfully, I felt like I was flying already. The park is one of the few places I'm allowed to go by myself, let alone actually have the means to get to. Going there with Zara feels like freedom. With how I've been feeling lately–stressed beyond imagination even though I don't actually have anything interesting going on in my life, trapped in my own mind, boxed in by my stupid temper–freedom is something I'm learning to cherish.

"Oh! I saw this thing online, you have to do it!" Zara exclaimed after a few moments of swinging along to the music without talking.

"Do what? I'm not breaking any laws, ok." I giggled.

"Shut up, I'm trying to explain!"

"Sorry." I held my hands up in surrender, then nearly fell off of the swing. Zara snorted as I hurriedly regripped the chains. "Go on," I said casually.

"It's a coding competition for high schoolers. The winner gets free classes and a trip to LA!"

"Seriously? That's so cool!" I said, designs already coming together in my head.

"You have to do it," Zara said again.

I smiled. Why not? "Duh!" I agreed.

"I'll send you the link so you can look at it."

"You're the best."

We parted twenty minutes later, each heading in our respective direction for the long ride home. I felt light as a feather, full of sunshine and joy.

So that's another thing I've got going on. The days are taking on a regular schedule. Wake up, get mad about waking up late, school, meltdown (some days worse than others), guilt, coding (everyone assumes I'm doing homework on the computer; they think I work harder than I do), go outside if it isn't dark or raining (I'm beginning to hate the dark), dance (usually only for twenty minutes), crafts, watch YouTube, bed. Time is ticking away. Rain pounds on the garage's metal roof more often than not, making me feel even more anxious.

I never get everything that I want done. I always feel like I'm drowning, but in reality I'm fine. My headbands and key chains are getting sloppier. Every time I think I might be getting good at dancing, I look in the mirror and realize I'm still as awkward as ever. As for coding, progress is slow. It's been a hobby of mine ever since I took an online class for fun two years ago, but I've never tried anything as big as this contest.

I guess it makes sense that I'm stressed. It's clear that what I'm doing is too much, but it shouldn't be. I love these things. I want to be able to handle them. I will be able to handle them. Still, I hate this feeling. I know I'm wasting my time being miserable and that scares me, because I only have so much time. One day I'll wake up and be in the 'twenty years later' epilogue, a grown woman with actual responsibilities. I want to be a kid while I can, but I don't know how to escape myself. I try to be carefree, but sometimes it feels forced and leaves me even more stressed. It's like there's a gaping chasm inside of me, blocking the way to what I really want, whatever that is at this point. One wrong step and I'll go plummeting down into the void.

In the end, it's a tiny thing that sends me crashing down. I'm trying to perfect the chorus to "Can't We Just Leave the Monster Alive?", but I keep getting stuck on a certain part. I repeat it over and over. And over and over and over. And– I have no control over my feet. I hear plastic and metal crashing together as I stumble into my desk, sending craft supplies flying everywhere. I don't even hit that hard, it barely even hurts, but it's enough to make the tension that's been building for weeks light up as rage in my chest. 

I choke out a scream, wildly tearing things off of the desk and hurtling them across the room. Buttons, plastic headbands, tape, copper wire, it's all bouncing off of the piles of junk. My eyes are burning. My throat is burning. Everything is burning. I wish I could throw harder. I wish I were stronger. I yank the glue gun's cord out of the wall and throw that, too. A sickening crack fills the air and I look up just in time to see cracks like spider webs spread over the surface of the mirror. I'm frozen for a moment, staring at my fragmented reflection. 

"Are you ok, sweetie?" It's Mom. She cracks the door open and peeks through, concern clouding her brow when she notices the craft supplies littering the already cluttered room.

I humm out a reply, but it doesn't sound all that convincing. Especially since I'm crying the next second. And trust me, I would prefer to not be crying right now, but the tears are there anyway, tickling the inside of my head and spilling out of my eyes. No matter how hard I might try, I can't hold them back. And so I stand there ugly crying in front of the broken mirror. I never could hide my emotions.

Mom doesn't say anything else as she enters the garage, sidestepping clutter to come and wrap me up in her sturdy arms. I remain stiff for a moment, my movements delayed by the thoughts running through my head. It wasn't even twenty minutes ago that Mom was yelling at me about my horrible attitude towards Alex. Guilt washes over me as I lean into her embrace. She's so soft and warm. Why do I have to make things so hard for her?

She holds me like that until my tears subside. My back is a little stiff by the time she pulls away, and then it's only to take hold of my shoulders and look me in the eye. I'm having trouble looking back at her brown eyes, so full of compassion and well-concealed weariness.

"I'm sorry I yelled earlier," she says gently.

"Sorry for being crappy," I reply, sniffling.

"I get that you're stressed. Life can be…a lot. I shouldn't have lost my temper."

"It wasn't your fault." Because it wasn't. It was my fault. I was the one making everything difficult. "Mom, what's wrong with me?"

"I think you're overwhelmed with a lot of things right now. And I think you might not be the best at handling those emotions."

I let out a wet snort at that. "No duh."

I expect her to lecture me, point out all of my mistakes, tell me how to make it better but I still won’t be able to change anything. She doesn't. She doesn't say anything for a while, just takes my hand and gently rubs the back of it. "It won't always be like this. You're so much more than you think you are. You're going to be ok."

On the one hand, they sound like generic, empty words. She can't possibly know that anything will get better, and I like to think I have a fairly realistic perception of myself. Still, I want to believe her. Because she sounds so sure, so sincere. And she's looking at me with love, not judgment or even much pity. "I love you, Brooks. You're so loved. And that has nothing to do with your performance." And that was it, the words that break my resolve, crumble my walls. Finally the pieces clicked into place.

Fresh tears burn my eyes, and I have no choice but to bury my face in Mom's shoulder, letting the soft fabric of her blouse cushion me. She giggles, patting my head and then hugging me some more. 

We pull apart at the sound of Alex screaming from inside the house. "MOM! HOW LONG DO I COOK THE FRICKIN' HAM FOR?"

"Ham?" I ask, immediately perking up from how I was moments ago.

"Your sister's helping, so don't get your hopes up," Mom laughs, getting up to go assist her.

I laugh too, and then feel Mom's eyes settle on me, a fond smile on her face. "You good now?"

I shrug. "Better. Thanks, Momma."

I stare at the door for a few moments after Mom leaves, then turn around to assess the damage… and let out a verbal groan. The mere sight of the garage is overwhelming. It isn't going to fix itself, though. I gingerly pick up a piece of glass from the floor, careful not to cut my finger on the sharp edge. I can see my left eye staring back at me, bloodshot and shiny from crying. I hold the piece back a little and smile without opening my mouth, watching the dimples appear on either cheek. I don't look amazing, but I look alive. And that's the thing, isn't it? I'm still alive. And there's a lot more to my life than what's going on in my mind. 

I think back over the last month, over the good points instead of bad. Laughing with Alex. Swinging with Zara. Teasing Dad. Hugging Mom. Sunshine in between the clouds. Wind on my cheeks and stars in my eyes. People I love by my side. I'm loved. I'm loved by so many people. They might not understand every thought I have, and I might not be able to articulate everything, but they do care. Between all of the business, or maybe because of it, they make my life beautiful. 

It took me a while to realize it, but rain makes things grow. The darker a night is, the brighter the stars are. I might be a little bit of a disaster, but I'm not alone. I don't know anything about anything, but maybe learning is what makes life exciting.

My problems don't all disappear in a flash. This isn't a fairytale. There are still bad days, lots of bad days. Sometimes I kick myself back to square one, maybe even lower than that, but every time I make it back up. The light is definitely shining through. I might not be perfect, but I think I'm going to be alright.

fiercer until she thought her body would explode. She opened her mouth to cough or scream, but was met with the thick taste of rot. She writhed, kicking her arms and legs with the little strength she had left as the invisible enemy pursued her. It was no use, no matter which she turned, it was all the same. All black. All painful. Her mind was racing like a guinea pig on its wheel, so fast that she couldn’t catch any of the thoughts. Tears stung her eyes. Everything hurt. The world was spinning. That was when she saw a murky, green-brown light. She wasn't thinking at all, all she knew or cared about was reaching that light. Her own body was a blur as she thrashed with all her might. At last she bobbed up into blinding sunlight, coughing fiercely and gasping for air. She fell under again almost immediately, but kicked her way up once again. The water almost seemed angry, though. She was only able to hack out one strained shriek for help before it forced her under again. This time she stopped fighting. The world was already dark. Now it was going numb, too. 

"Are you sure that's all you remember? Sarah asks as Kayla finishes retelling the story.

"Uh huh,” Kayla replies in a hollow tone. "After that I woke up on the beach and you were there, and we started talking. You mentioned a friend named Kayla and I thought that was familiar. You know what happened since then." She says it all without any emotion, fiddling with the pink petals of a nearby flower as she talks. They are hidden in Sarah's garden, which is between Mrs. Wilson's house and the shed that serves as Sarah and Kayla's bedroom. The shed is tucked back into the dry weeds where nobody notices it. Because nobody ever goes back there, the garden is a bit secret. The reason it has to be secret is because clean water is scarce in the town. It needs to be brought in from other places, but it's getting scarce there, too. Not only does Sarah need to share her rations to make the flowers grow, she needs to protect the flowers from the toxic rain. Because of these inconvenient factors, gardening is illegal. Sarah can't give up her garden, though. It's the only place where she feels like she can breathe, both literally and mentally. Now sunlight is slanting through the leaves and landing on the rusty bench where Sarah and Kayla sit. Sunflowers are growing up to their left, and the ground ahead is carpeted in purple. Two white butterflies are playing in the air, and a bird chirps not far away.

"I know what happened from there up until you saw those butterflies and said they reminded you of something. What was it?" 

“I don't know.”

"Well, think! Don't you want to remember?" Sarah presses gently. Kayla shruggs.

"Hey, I get that knowing can be hard. I know how my parents died, and now I'm afraid of fire, but I'd still rather have that than just cluelessness."

Kayla is silent. 

"Do you want to live in the dark?"

"I really don't care." 

"Do you care about anything?"

“No.”

“I should've known, I guess. Ever since I met you, you haven't smiled once. You're beautiful, but you’d be so much prettier if you smiled.” Sarah pauses thoughtfully.

Kayla knows what she wants to ask, but she is hesitant. "Do you think I have a personality?"

Sarah doesn't know what to say. She doesn't want to be rude, but Kayla needs her to answer honestly. "I think you could have one,” is all she can offer. 

"I knew I didn't,” Kayla states almost matter-of-factly.

"I'm sorry.”

“But you think I could?" There is almost a hint of emotion in her tone. The tiniest glint of hope. "Of course, who's stopping you?" 

"I don't know. Somebody."

"What?" 

"I think... I think I used to have a personality. I used to care. I can just barely геmember what it felt like. I want it back, but I just... can't. Something won't let me." 

"Kayla! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Sarah asks, excited. 

Kayla shrugs."What's the point?"

"The fact that you want it proves there's still something there! Whatever is holding you up,

we can work past it. Nothing can block you from being yourself!" Sarah exclaims, her brown eyes sparkling passionately.

Kayla just stares into space.

“Pease. Just try,” Sarah pleads more gently. 

Kayla continues to sit perfectly still, her graceful hands folded in her lap, for an unnaturally long time. 

"Kayla?" Sarah begins to get worried. “What's going on?”

Kayla still doesn't move, but her breathing gradually gets heavier until she is panting as if in terror. 

"Kayla..."

All at once she sucks in her breath and springs up off of the bench. She leans against a small blossoming tree and does the most shocking thing while still catching her breath. She smiles-- no, grins. True to what Sarah said earlier, Kayla is a thousand times more beautiful when she smiles. Her pale skin lights up and two perfect dimples appear on her smooth cheeks. Her petite nose scrunches ever so slightly and, most importantly, her crystal blue eyes open wide to let the world in. She is so shocked, all she can do is laugh.

Sarah, taken aback, can't help giggling, too. “Kayla! Are you ok?" she manages to squeeze out. 

Kayla shakes her head, causing her curls to bounce before answering. "Not Kayla! I know who I really am!"

"What?" Sarah stops giggling and stares into the eyes of Kayla, who has also regained her composure. "Did you say…” 

Kayla nods. "You were right, nothing can stop me! I remember everything! I have a personality!” 

Sarah doesn't know how to respond. “Kayla, that's... amazing!" 

"I remember my real name, too. Call me Kalalaya.”

"Kalalaya?" 

She nods.

"That's not a normal name. I love it." 

"It's not normal for humans, anyway." 

"Wait..." 

"I'd better explain from the beginning."

So Kalalaya tells the whole story. As it turns out, she isn't human. She's a living particle of water. The community that she lived in before makes up the lake near Sarah's hometown where the foul water comes from. They are called the cursed, because they were doomed to a stagnant life of waste by the evil witch, Genella. Legends claim that Genella cursed the community by mistake in an experiment but didn’t bother trying to fix the damage. Nobody could punish her since the crime was unintentional, but she still faced seclusion. The lack of contact with other creatures and the knowledge that everyone was blaming her made Genella  hard and bitter.

The curse made everyone useless. Some got angry and rebelled, completing their usual journeys anyway. This spread the poison farther and harmed the crops in town. Most just stayed put, living a useless life of nothingness. Spirits in the community sank low and lives became bland. Kalalaya handled it differently. She knew she couldn't let anger control her since that only harmed others, but she wasn't going to sit around and let life pass by without any action, either. What she did was make her own fun and adventures where she was, spreading her happiness and curiosity with the rest of the community to ease the gloom. Life was pretty good for Kalalaya, who never stopped dreaming about going on journeys someday, but what she didn't know was that she had an enemy. It was Genella, who was by that point an angry and depressed creature who didn’t want anyone to be happy without her. With nothing better to do, she set her focus on getting rid of Kalalaya.

An opportunity came sooner than Genella had expected when rumors started spreading about a water creature who'd turned into a human. Kalalaya thought that would be the perfect opportunity for adventure, so she began searching out ways to do it herself. That was when Genella reached out in disguise and offered to perform the magic on the over-eager girl.

"We met in a cave where she told me to go a few weeks ago, and then she cornered me and revealed who she really was and that her plan was to turn me into a dull human forever to get rid of me,” Kalalaya goes on.

"Why would she tell you?” Sarah asks, eyes wide. 

"I'll bet she wanted to see me afraid, rotten scum--"

"Were you afraid?"

“Well, I don't think anyone could be pleased about something like this! But it's over now, and I have my personality back, so it worked out." 

“Did it, now?” a high, cruel voice demanded from the side of the garden, making both girls jump. They turn to see a tall, bony figure standing with her hands on her hips. Her wrinkled face is creased in a permanent frown.

"Mrs. Wilson! W-why are you--" Sarah begins. 

"Sarah, dear! I asked you to wash the dishes ages ago! Now stop playing in fairyland and show some gratitude for what I've done for you!" Mrs. Wilson snaps, uprooting a sunflower and tossing it aside as she talks. 

"Yes m--”

"Wait!" Kalalaya puts her arm out to stop Sarah from standing up. 

"Ah, and Kayla--"

Kalalaya growels at this. 

“--you never emptied the waste bin, and now I've got to do it myself.” With that, Mrs. Wilson picks up a basket the girls hadn't noticed before and dumps its contents into a patch of petunias. 

"You can't just--”

"That's going to hurt my people!” 

"Oh, that's right, Kalalaya, was it?" 

"How long have you been listening?" 

"Long enough to know what I need to know." 

"And that means…”

“I know that my fool of a sister is at it again. I'm on her side this time, but of course she can't pull it off! Now I'll need to step in." 

"Wait, did you say--”

"Yes, yes, what a shock. Unfortunately, Genella is my sister.”

"But you're a human..."

"Did you honestly think she just made that one mistake? I'm another of her failed experiments. Filthy rat turned me human, can't turn me back." 

"Then why are on her side now?" Kalalaya asks, immersed in the story.

"You were this close to breaking her curse with your happiness--" Mrs. Wilson spits this word out, “--and they don't deserve to fly free while I'm stuck here. Getting rid of you was the best bet. Since she couldn't do it, I will," Mrs. Wilson raises her voice on the last two words, making both girls jump. In a quick motion, she has them hovering in the air above the bench. They both shriek at the same time. Kalalaya begins kicking and writhing in the air while Sarah freezes in terror.

"Let us go!" Kalalaya shouts. With a nod of her head, Mrs. Wilson dropps both girls to the ground. Sarah crashes into the corner of the bench and sits panting on the ground. Kalalaya Falls onto a thorny rose bush. "Thanks," she grumbles. 

"That was just for fun. Now it's time to finish what my idiot sister started!" 

"She's going to take away your passion. Do something!" Sarah whispers urgently. 

Kalalaya immediately begins to panic. Palms sweating, she has the feeling like she's suffocating. It's the same way she felt when Genella cursed her the first time. But she made it through that. She can do it again. Before she knows what she's doing, she stands up and realizes that Mrs. Wilson is on the ground breathing hard. "What did I just do?" Kalalaya asks.

"Something,” Sarah breathes.

"Did I... take her powers?"

"Looks like it."

Mrs. Wilson is now pulling herself up, sputtering and swearing. She waves her arms at the girls like mad, but nothing happens. 

"Were you too strong for her?"

"I guess." 

"I wonder if you could defeat Genella, too. Would that break the curse?" 

"It makes sense. Going after the source has to work better than ignoring the problem. I'll just have to figure out how to get to her." 

"Are you aware that you're shrinking?" 

"Ah! What? Sarah, I think I'm changing back!" Kalalaya is already half as tall as her friend. 

"Well, that explains how you'll get to Genella."

"Will I be strong enough to defeat her?" 

"Of course. You can handle anything."

"What about Mrs. Wilson?"

"I'll get the police to take care of her."

"And you?”

"I'll be fine, but will I ever see you again?"

"Every time it rains, "Kalalaya promises just as she shrinks so small that Sarah can't see her.

Every night

I feel heavy as a weight.

‘Sleep tonight,

I'll do tomorrow right,’

I always tell myself.

So the cycle goes.

Filled with painful ninety percents

On schoolwork

And too many saves on Pinterest.

In between.

My words mean nothing.

I say what I'll do

To start or end the circular day,

But I never do it.

I say it to keep my wheels turning.

I don't want to stop moving. 

Even if I ride in the same old ruts 

Over and over again,

At least I'm moving.

The circle grows smaller

Little by little.

I'm growing dizzy. 

I spiral smaller and smaller

And soon I'll have nowhere to go.

Dizzy, so dizzy.

I need to get out. 

I need to break free.

These ruts, 

Why do they hold me?

I'm done

Running in circles.

There are infinite tomorrows,

More blank pages,

New roads to explore.

A whole future for me to write.

I need to start somewhere.

I'll go for today

Before today is yesterday.

It might be scary,

But I'm so dizzy there are stars in my eyes,

So I don't care. 

I'm going for it.

The rut is broken.

No more, 'This or that will be the time.’

This

Is

The time.

Now my head is clear.

When I'm feeling mad or sad 

I open up a certain Book.

What's there that makes me feel so glad? 

Why don't you take a look!

What about history? Were past wars worth fighting to Christians? Let's take a look at the Declaration of Independence, for example. Thomas Jefferson did give several good reasons for the colonies to be upset with the King of Britain, but did these reasons have to lead to wars? Something had to be done but I don't think the situation had to be as extreme as it was. They should have protested kindly, talked it out and consulted the Bible a bit more before starting a full out revolution.

What about now? Coronavirus obsession is still going on along with Black Lives Matter protests. With the election coming up, the level of crazy in this country isn't going down. Some people post their every thought and opinion on social media. Others throw rocks at cars and burn buildings. What should we do? Like in any situation, we should follow the Bible above all. If we have to speak out, we should do so in a way that is both loving and logical.

That was a lot of words, but here is the main point of it all: be thoughtful, be careful, be peaceful, and always look at God's Word first.

     "Friend? Molly's your friend now? Molly?" Mindy asked scornfully.

     My face became a furnace as my stomach dropped to my toes. "What? No! She just won't leave me alone! I thought she was too small to be a real threat, even if she is Japanese, so I didn't bother trying to get rid of her." I don't know why I said that. It wasn't true, I just hated Mindy's tone.

     I was thinking all of this over when suddenly I heard the roar of an engine overhead. What the... I looked up to see a bomber with the Japanese symbol on it. I whipped my head around to cast an uneasy glance at the harbor to my right.

---------

     Days later I looked out the window to find a completely different island. The beaches were guarded with barbed wire and most of the ship's were gone. Destroyed. 2,335 men were killed plus 68 civilians. 1,178 more were wounded, including 35 innocent people standing by. I was one of those 35.

       I shuddered at the memory. The smoke had thickened the sky in an instant and the sharp fumes had made me dizzy. Debris from our ships were flying everywhere. I tried to run but suddenly I was slammed to the ground. I couldn't feel my legs. The whole world had begun to spin. I was sure that I was dead when I saw Lillian. She was running towards me in all of the mayhem. The world went black before anything else could happen.

     The next thing I knew I was seated on the couch with my mom. The scent of tea sweetened the air. Lillian was gone. I never saw her again after that. I never got to thank her. Or to apologize.

      Mom's are so perfect. They know when you need to talk and when all you want to do is curl up the legs you can't feel and cry because you're so confused by this point that you don't know what to say or even think. They know that sometimes you just have to let something out, so they let you scream like a madman as loud as you like. They also know when all you need is a good book.

       Oh, it felt so wonderful to be on solid ground once more! We had really made it. Well... not all of us. I remembered my brother with a sharp pang of sadness. Taking a shaking breath, I reminded myself that he was in heaven now.

     My legs wobbled beneath me, for they had grown accustomed to the tossing waves and the constant rocking. Unable to stand, I knelt down and have thanks to God instead. All around me other people knelt in prayer, too. It was like a Sunday's service right then and there. We hadn't even planned it out.

      It was the dead of winter. I shivered through my worn cloak and work dress, but the view below made it all worth it. The wilderness of trees and bushes before us was laced in a delicate frost that made even the thorns beautiful. It was as if a great spider had woven her web all around the forest. I had seen plenty of snow before in England, but it had never lost it's beauty to me. Something about this land was different, though. I was meant to be here. Agitated grumbles swelled up around me after some time, but all I could hear was the singing of my heart.

     Wild animals ran by, much surprised to find us at their doorstep, but they weren't what the leaders were worried about. I peeked  between shivering shoulders and made my way through the growing crowd to see what the trouble was. I heard cold whispers of "Barbarians" and "Wild men" that sent ants up my spine. But when at last I got to the front of the crowd, I saw nothing of the sort. What I saw was a small group of men with flesh and bones not so different from mine. They all had two arms, two legs, and faces just like me. So what was everyone scared of? Their skin was strangely dark and their clothes so very different, but what did that matter?

I was lost in thought long after I finished the introduction. How could this girl be so cheerful against all odds? I guess she was just doing what she could to make the situation better. Why couldn't I do that? I could try a new view. Lillian was gone. There wasn't anything I could do about that. What I could do was change my friends' opinions on her. Maybe one day she would come back and find an island ready to accept her, to admit that we are all humans. Maybe we could all take on a new view. 

JOANNE: Why do I always have to have my baby brother trailing me like some lame puppy?!

PAUL: J-Joanne...

JOANNE: None of my friends have annoying brothers following them all the time!

PAUL: Joanne! Getoutoftheway! (He shoves JOANNE out of the way just as a wide tree crashes right where she had just been standing.)

JOANNE: Paul! (She is sitting on the ground about a foot away from the tree. PAUL is sticking out from under it. He is unconscious.)

SCENE 2

(JOANNE is sitting alone in front of a light blue hospital bed where PAUL is lying, still unconscious.)

JOANNE: Mom and Dad just left to pick up lunch. I'll save my side salad for when you get better since you even eat like a nerd. (She laughs softly.)

(The DOCTOR, a tall middle aged man with dark skin and hair, enters the room. JOANNE doesn't notice at first.)

DOCTOR: If he gets better.

​JOANNE: (She jumps at the voice behind her and the terrifying words it spoke.) What do you mean? You must be stupid, of course he'll get better!

DOCTOR: (He is nervously fiddling with the end of his coat sleeve.) I'm sorry, but we get cases like this all the time.

JOANNE: (She tries to sound sarcastic but her voice wobbles unconvincingly.) A tree falls on a boy every day, huh? Gimme a break!

DOCTOR: A patent comes in sick or injured and the family only talks about when they get better. But when they don't get better, the family wails louder than a siren when I give the news. Been through it a thousand times.

JOANNE: (Tears are now dripping down her cheeks. Her voice is small and scared.) He might not survive?

DOCTOR: I really can't say. Here's my advice: focus on the good memories.

JOANNE: (She is talking to herself quietly.) Good memories...

SCENE 3

(A YOUNG JOANNE is sitting on a bed with a colorful quilt on the right side of the stage, crying. A YOUNG PAUL comes in, a look of concern on his face.

YOUNG PAUL: (He sits on the bed next to JOANNE and pulls her into a wordless hug.) 

YOUNG JOANNE: (She slaps his hand and scootches away.) Go away! You're not Buttercup.

YOUNG PAUL: (He walks towards the left side of the stage with his head down until he comes across a can of cat food and his eyes light up. He opens the can and gags, then walks all around the stage waving the stinky can around.) Here kitty kitty! Comere Buttercup! (The lights slowly darken and get bright again. He yawns and his head nods a few times, but he stays awake. When a yellow cat walks onstage, he triumphantly picks her up and brings her to the bed where JOANNE is still sleeping.)

SCENE 4

(The scene is back to the hospital room with JOANNE and PAUL. The DOCTOR has left.)

JOANNE: (She is crying even more now.) I'm so sorry, Paul! I ruined that like I ruin everything! (She bursts into a fresh batch of tears and puts her head in her hands.) I am a terrible sister.

YOUNG PAUL: (He is speaking from offstage.) Don't worry, Jo. I'm sure you can do better.

JOANNE: Not if I never get the chance! (She starts  angrily pacing back and forth across the floor by PAUL's bed.) What is wrong with me? This is my fault. All of it. I'm such a stupid jerk! (She stops pacing  and sobs, her shoulders heaving.) Paul, (She gasps before continuing.) I don't deserve you. I never have. But it's not fair that you should die, especially not because of me. I need to be more like you , but I can't if you're not here to help me. (She stops and sinks to the ground crying so hard. She curls into a ball and rocks back and forth until she calms down a bit.)

YOUNG PAUL: (Again he is speaking from offstage.) You know what I would do here, try it.

JOANNE: (She takes a deep breath and nods.) Dear God, um, thanks for giving me such a great brother. I'm sorry I didn't realize it until now. Sorry for how I treated him. I promise I'll try to do better if You'll only let him live. Please let him live. Please. Give me a second chance.

SCENE 5

(An OLDER JOANNE is standing in the driveway of a big house next to a red car. An OLDER PAUL is standing next to JOANNE with a big smile on his face.)

OLDER JOANNE: Can you believe I got my learners permit? Soon we'll be cruisin' all across the country! (She opens the car door.)

OLDER PAUL: Awesome! I can't wait! (He hops into the backseat of the car.)

OLDER JOANNE: Um, wait, are you coming today? I mean, this is my first drive in real traffic.

OLDER PAUL: Which is exactly why I can't miss it!

OLDER JOANNE: Are you sure you trust me?

OLDER PAUL: Always.

God’s love for us is even more amazing when we consider how undeserving we are. That’s right, Titus 3:3-5 says, “They must not slander anyone and must avoid quarreling. Instead, they should be gentle and show true humility to everyone. Once we, too, were foolish and disobedient. We were misled and became slaves to many lusts and pleasures. Our lives were full of evil and envy, and we hated each other. But— When God our Savior revealed his kindness and love, he saved us, not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He washed away our sins, giving us a new birth and new life through the Holy Spirit.”

What did God do that saved us and washed away our sins? “For this is how God loved the world: He gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.” -- John 3:16. That Son is Jesus Christ, who died on a cross to forgive our sins and rose again to defeat death. (You can read more about this in Matthew 26-28, Mark 14-16, Luke 22-24, or John 17-21.)

Can anything else be said? Love, love, love. God’s love. It will always be there to save us. Store that in your mind and remember it the next time you feel down and disappointed. Now all that’s left to do is give thanks to the LORD through prayer.

peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus. And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.

Philippians 4:4-8

This is one of my favorite Bible verses because it unlocks the answer to the important question: how do we find uncircumstantial joy? If we fill our minds with God and His word, it will fill our lives with His hope, peace, and joy. The way I see it in my mind and the way I chose to draw it, God’s word will wrap around us and comfort us as we are filled by Him so that we can shine through our difficulties.

How do we fill our minds and our lives with God and His word? By getting to know Him, of course! If we read the Bible and pray regularly with open hearts, then we will begin to know God. The more we learn about Him and interact with Him, the more we know him, look like Him, and learn to rely on Him. As we become more like God, we begin to produce the fruits of His Spirit, which fill our lives even more with Him.

But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these things!

Galatians 5:22-23

Sounds simple enough, right? All you have to do is trust and set your mind on the right things. It’s really that simple! Next time you’re feeling bad, be prepared. Fill your mind with God right now so that you always know where to look for comfort.

Him[God]. He does as He pleases among the angels of heaven and the people of the earth. No one can stop Him or say to Him, 'What do You mean by doing these things?'"  This is basically saying that God is more powerful than anyone or anything else, He does whatever He wants (and since He is perfect and all-knowing, this is a very good thing), and nobody can stop or question Him. Isaiah 46:10 says something similar: "Only I[God] can tell you the future before it even happens. Everything I plan will come to pass, for I do whatever I wish." 

     Now we know that God can make good out of bad, but we need to know if He does. While God does sometimes bring just judgement on people, Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that God causes everything to work out for those who love God and are called according to His purpose for them." This means that Christians don't have to worry! If we truly love God and want whatever He wants for us, everything will eventually come together to help us in some way, be it obvious or unexpected. 

      Though it may not seem like it, God always has a purpose that will ultimately benefit believers. I am not saying that if we believe in God we'll get all the possessions we want and our lives will immediately be perfect, not at all! All I'm saying is that God is on our side and He knows what's best for us in the long run and how to make it happen, even if it makes no sense to us at the time. 

The ground is a magical carpet

Of a flowery array.

Only a few have not bloomed yet;

Most have opened up their glorious petals

To show what makes them so lovely

And when the right time calls

I will bloom, too. Just wait and see.

Wednesday.

I have smiled all night in bed

And also all day.

My art has been accepted!

I have new confidence

That my writing could be, too.

My excitement is immense;

How to contain it, I have no clue.

Thursday.

I bickered with my little sister

In a childish way.

She offended me about a picture.

I came at her with my paintbrush.

I failed to keep my anger in

But next time, into rage I will not rush.

When we fail, second chances let us win.

Friday.

I did not do it this time

But it's okay.

I'll keep on using rhythm and rhyme

To honor God, the One who made me

And gave me the talent and passion.

I will always be loved by Him, you see.

He is here, no matter what may happen.

But no, she doesn't want to play. 

She hasn't had her phone all day. 

And now it's all she wants to do, 

Abandoning everything, including me, too. 

It's always like that and it's alright 

For her to text all day and night. 

But today is different, 

Today she did some things with me 

And now I see an opportunity.

We have started and I don't want to stop.

I want to end the day perfectly like a cherry on top.

"No, I don't think it's a bill, it's probably just a really fancy ad,” Mom answered. 

“It's addressed to our whole family," Abby said. 

“So can I open it?" Mason asked. 

"I wanne open it!" Maddy whined. 

"Let me open it!" four-year-old Benjamin said, just wanting to be in on the argument. 

"Mason asked first, he can open it, tell me what it is,” Mom said as she began to fold the laundry.

"Try not to rip it, I'll keep the paper for a craft if nobody else has a use for it," Abby said. She didn't have to ask him, he was cutting the gold paper as if it were real gold. A typed letter was pulled out of the envelope. Mason tried reading it but could hardly make out what it said. Abby took the letter and began to silently read. 

“What does it say?" all three of the little kids asked at the same time. "Uuuum, ‘I am very sad to inform you that Henry Rupert Billowerd has passed away. I am his son, your long lost cousin and/or second cousin, Rupert Billoward. Henry was quite wealthy and wished to give $1,000,000,000 to every family related to himn, closely or not so what you must do is…’ then there's a bunch of legal stuff I don't understand,” Abby said when she finished reading.

“Wait, what?” Maddy asked.

“It says that apparently our super rich long lost uncle died and we inherited a boat load of money! "Abby said, it didn't matter much to her because she figured Mom and Dad would just put it into savings in case they ever needed it. Benjamin didn't really care because he didn't really understand the concept of money. Mason, on the other hand, was crazy with excitement, he was already picturing himself sitting on a pile of lego sets as big as the house. He was also jumping up and down and flapping his hands like a clumsy bird that forgot how to fly. Maddy was dancing around the house and thinking of all the different toys she would get on every trip to Walmart. Of course she would forget about the toys the day after she got them but that was a minor detail.

"What are you doing?" Kennedy asked as she walked in with Graclie in one arm and her kindle in the opposite hand. Nobody could tell if she was annoyed or jokeing, at age fourteen, she was usually annoyed. 

"We won a bunch of money and I'm gonna get a tower of lego sets!” Mason shouted. 

“I didn't hear anything about lego sets but yeah Mom and Dad inherited $1,000,000,” Abby said. "Wow!" said Kennedy.

"Aaaa!" screamed nine-month-old Gracie. 

"Calm down! "Mom told everyone, “When Dad gets home from work I'll talk to him so we can decide what to do with the money.

"Do we get any of the money?" Mason arked at lunch the next day. Mom and Dad looked at each other in a weird way. “Wha?" 

“We were thinking about giving each of you a little bit of it to teach you about handling money,” Dad said. 

"Really? Yay! How much?" all the kids started talking at the same time. 

"Probably just $100 each, we'll save the rest." Mom said.

"One hundred dollars!!!" most of the kids shouted at once. 

“Can we go on vacation next Summer?" Abby asked. 

"Maybe," Mom said, this produced more cheers from all the kids. The following week the busy family set off to claim the money. They were shocked to see a set of fire trucks, lights on, their hoses going into the bank. Smoke was billowing out of the windows. Not knowing anything about the situation, Mom and Dad figured it would be a good idea to come back a different time. On his way home from work a few days later, Dad drove by and saw that nothing seemed wrong at the bank so he stopped in.

"May I ask about that fire last Saturday," Dad said. 

"Oh yes, that, we're not sure what started it but it began in the room where the bills are kept in the box for the Rater family," the worker said. 

"Oh no! I'm Mark Rater, I assume you have all of it digitally somewhere though, right?" Dad said.

“Yes we were able to recover your money earlier today, would you like to take some out sir?" the worker asked. 

"Yes please, if you wouldn't mind," Dad said. 

"How much?" the worker asked. 

"$500 please," Dad requested. 

“Right away sir," and then he left to retrieve the money. 

“I’m gonna get a lego set, and a stuffed animal, and a nerf gun, and..." 

"Mason, you don't have enough money for all of that, and don't you want to save some?" said Kennedy, annoyed.

“How do you know I won't have enough money?" Mason asked, now he was also annoyed. Kennedy made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a groan. Then the two were off bickering for the rest of the drive to Walmart, so a whole two minutes. As it turns out he did not have enough money and ended up spending all of it on one huge lego set. Maddy took a long time to choose, then she bragged about having $50 left over from the baby doll and clothes for a different doll that she got. Benjamin went nuts and wanted to buy the whole store, since he couldn’t do that, he finally got some Paw Patrol cars and a Spider Man car. At that point Mom and Dad are both thinking, ‘This was a terrible idea!’ Kennedy and Abby decided to save their money so finally the parade of people and toys left. 

When Mom and the kids returned to Walmart to get groceries, it was a mad house outside. As it turns out, the day after the Raters went shopping a burglar came in the night and stole all the money in the cash register as well as expensive electronics and... toys? Mom decided they would just shop at Aldi’s for a few weeks. After unloading the groceries from the car, Mom sent the three oldest kids to get the garbage cans from the end of the driveway. As Mason was picking up one of the cans, he felt something stuck to it. "Wait, what's this?" he asked, holding up an old-looking brownish yellow paper. 

“It's a note, here, lemme see that, it says 'How have you not figured this out by now? With that money you also inherited a curse. Bad things will keep happening wherever you put the money or spend it. The only way to reverse this curse is to bury all the money and mark where it is so nobody steps on it. If anyone steps where the money is buried, they will die!’" Kennedy read, her eyes getting wider and wider.

“Yikes, creepy!" Mason said running to the back with the garbage can. 

"It's like a Nancy Drew mystery! Let's try to solve it,” Abby said, almost forgetting how creepy it was. 

"Maybe after we tell Mom and Dad,” Kennedy said. "Mom, Mason found this on one of the garbage cans, it's really creepy," Kennedy said five minutes later. 

"Wow! that is creepy!" Mom said. She knew it wasn't a joke, at least not by her kids by the serious looks on their faces. 

"What should we do about it?" Abby asked, “Can we solve the mystery?” 

Mom thought for a minute. “Curses aren't real, so either someone who is superstitious left it to be nice, or some kid left it as a prank, either way, how did they know about the money or our address?" Mom asked, more to herself than the girls.

"Maybe it was a criminal, bad things did happen where we left the money. Maybe someone is spying on us and making those things happen!” Abby exclaimed. 

"I'll talk to Dad when he gets home from work and we'll try to figure out what to do," Mom said.

“So, about that note,” Kennedy said, jumping into Abby’s bed that night.

“So weird,” Abby said. “If it is a criminal, we need to catch him, let’s find suspects.” The girls thought for a moment.

“How do we do that?” Kennedy asked.

“Not a clue,” Abby said.

“Hmmmmm…” the girls thought some more. “Why would anybody want to do that?” Kennedy asked.

“Good question, maybe we should start with that,” Abby said, grabbing a notebook. She flipped to an empty page and wrote "Motives" in bold letters at the top with a green pan. After about a half hour they hadn't come up with anything and were very off subject talking about nail polish. "Night guys," Meson said, as he was walking past their bedroom.

“Night," Kennedy said, rolling her eyes.

"Wait, Mason, can you help us for a sec?" Abby asked,ignoring Kennady's eye roll.

"Sure, since Maddy won't let me sleep anyway," he said angrily "Great, so you know that note you found on the gachage can, we're trying to figure out who left it and I think I might have an idea." Abby said. 

"Thanos?" Masan suggested, this produced an eye roll from both girls followed by,”Oh, ha.Ha.” and, “Really? Just stop it." 

"Seriously guys, we should set a trap to catch the criminal," Abby said.

“We should use rabbit traps like in ‘Peter Rabbit,’” Mason suggested.

“That would work, if we had any of those,” Kennedy said, dripping with sarcasm. 

"Or we could just call the super hero squad," Maren went on. 

"You're hilarious," Kennedy said flatly. Because of all the bickering it took a long time but the kids eventually came up with a plan. “So this Friday we ask if we can sleep in the loft, Maddy can come but don't tell Benjamin about it. Once he falls asleep Maddy and Mason come up, Abby and I will already be up there setting up. How about we don't tell Maddy until we're about to go up. She's sure to spoil it but we can trust you, right Mason? Great. Once we're all set to 'sleep' we’ll all go out and bury the money loud enough for the criminal to hear but not Mom and Dad. Then Mason and I will leave and Abby and Maddy will hide. If they see anything suspicious they'll call us on the walkie talkies, but we can’t respond because then he will hear it. They can take Abby's camera to video the whole time. Once he leaves they follow him carefully, when we get there, we search the scene for clues. If they don't see anything suspicious, they can walkie us so we can switch places, got it?” Kennedy explained with Abby and Mason interjecting with, “Yup!” “Great!” and, “Ok!” every here and there. Plans were made with Mom and Dad concerning sleeping in the loft. Friday night everything was set. 

“Wait, duh we don't have to actually bury the money, we can bury fake money,"Abby said. So Maddy's pretend money was put in a jar and taken up to the loft. "Ok, we have blankets, flashlights, shovel, pillows, sleeping bags, the walkies, string, I think we're all set, oh, my camera! I almost forgot, be right back," Abby said. Maddy and Mason were awakened and the foursome crept up to the loft. Once Kennedy explained the plan to Maddy they started off into the woods. Abby and Maddy had borrowed some of Kennedy and Mason's black and camo clothes. ‘Scoop! Toss! Scoop! Toss! Scoop! Toss!’ Finally a decently sized hole was dug and the "money" was placed in it. Kennedy thoroughly filled the hole while the others wrapped bright yellow string between some of the surrounding trees. Kennedy and Mason departed with one of the walkie talkies. Maddy and Abby were left alone sitting on the roots of the biggest tree in the woods. "This is no way to hide!" Abby whisper yelled, so they sprawled on their stomachs so only their heads could be seen from the buried money. Abby was worried which way the criminal would come from, though. It got later and later and Maddy started to fall asleep. Abby was also getting tired. Abby sent two beeps on the walkie talkie, their signal for a shift change. Soon Mason and Kennedy arrived, for once too nervous and excited to argue. Abby and Maddy left. “Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp." 

Mason checked his watch, "1:07! Yikes!" he cried. 

"Shhhh! We have to be quiet!” 

“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp, rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp.” 

"Shouldn't they be gone by now?" It was nearing 1:30. 

“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp, rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp.” The noise was getting louder, “Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp!”

“Mason, the camera!”

“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp.” Kennedy sent one beep on the walkie talkie.

“That means they see him! Maddy! Wake up! We need to go right now!” Abby commanded frantically. Maddy drowsily opened her eyes. As soon as she saw where she was and her sister climbing down the ladder, she was fully alert.

“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp, rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp!” 

"Hurry! we need to get to the other side of the tree so he doesn't see us!” Kennedy whispered. “Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp.” By now the noise was coming from two directions, their house and the opposite direction. 

“I hope that's Abby and Maddy,” Mason said. 

"Shhhhh!" 

“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp, thump!” The footsteps stopped and something heavy nearly landed on Mason's head. Kennedy instinctively put her hand over Mason's mouth to keep his yelp down. 

"Shovels, everything's going perfectly," Kennedy's voice was so low Mason could barely hear her but his tongue seemed to have frozen so he stayed silent.

"Looks like them good for nothin' kids listened to our lil tip," a man who looked little more than a boy drawled. Kennedy clenched her fists. “Get to work, Rudy! I didn't hire you as a comrade!” a rudely dignified voice snapped.

“Yees boss,” Rudy said miserably. Just then a softer rustling sounded directly behind Kennedy and Mason. Noiselessly, Abby handed two papers and a pen to Kennedy. One paper read, "Sorry we took so long, what's going on?" It was a good thing Kennedy's eyes adjusted to the dark a long time ago. 

“That teenager's name is Rudy. It sounds like he works for that other man, who seems to be too stingy for money-digging. They've only been here about two minutes," Kennedy scribbled on the other paper. “Click!” That unfortunately satisfying clicky pen was what gave them away. 

"Um, boss, deed ya’ll hear dat?” Rudy asked.

“I certainly did," the other man said. He was walking towards the kids. Closer, closer. 

"Mason, give me the camera. I have a plan,” Kennedy whispered. Closer, closer, closer, flash! “Run!" Kennedy yelled, and run they did, as fast as their legs could carry them. 

"Geed em’!” Rudy cried.

“Not so fast, they’re just worthless children,” the boss said.

“Wait!” Maddy called. She was far behind the rest of her siblings. 

“Maddy, this isn't a game, listen to me, we are running for our lives, hurry up, I'll hold your hand," Abby said as she rushed back to her sister. They didn't stop running until they sat gasping for breath at the foot of their parents' bed.

“What the heck is going on?" Dad asked groggily. 

"Is everything ok?" Mom asked. So the story was told. Let’s just say that Mom and Dad were not pleased, especially considering it was past 3:00 AM and they had been sound asleep. The fear combined with the lecture set all four of them crying. The noise woke Benjamin up and he cried out of confusion and because his brother and sisters’ vacant beds scared him. Gracie also wake up and was not pleased. So most of the Rater family was crying loudly at 3:00AM. Mom got to work making Gracie a bottle and hugging Benjamin to stop his crying. Dad had to step outside for a moment to calm his temper. Once he came back in he calmly explained to his 4 oldest kids why what they did was wrong. 

"I'm proud of you though, that stakeout was a brave thing to do,” Dad said. 

"Thanks,” Mason said.

“Yeah, and it was scary," Maddy agreed. The older girls just hugged their Dad. The other kids joined in and almost squashed him. 

"We'll call the police and let them deal with those guys, ok, they won't get away with scaring our kids," Dad said. 

"The pictures!” Mason cried. 

"You're right," Abby said, picking up the camera that had fallen on the floor. "Blurry, blurry, only shows the ground, this one might be good, it shows them and in the background I can see the hole and the shovels. Oooo, here’s a shot of their faces!" Abby cried triumphantly. 

“Let me see that. Wow, great job guys," Dad said. 

"Ha! that guy even looks evil!" Masen laughed. 

"Haha, he's like your classic cartoon bad guy, " Abby laughed. 

“That is what he looks like!" Dad laughed. 

"Oh, he does, "Mom laughed. Soon the whole family was laughing so hard they could barely breathe. The following day prints were made of the photos and they were delivered to the police along with the note. Once the whole story was explained to the police, they said they would start work on it right away as they were already on the robbery and the fire.

A week later Mom got a call saying the police found the men. "We just need kids to confirm one and we'll send him off to jail, the other was already convicted of several robberies,” the man on the phone said. 

"Ok," Mam said, “Be there around 4:30." The kids confirmed both the suspects. It was found that Rudy Arnold had been at Harborcreek Youth Services. The other man, Miles Terry, had hired Rudy to do his dirty work by falsely promising to give him a share of the money. Mr. Jerry had been Henry Billoward’s best friend since childhood and he was angry that these relatives that Henry hadn't even known got more money than he did. Being a vengeful man with a bad temper, he had kept tabs on the family and their money and caused a disaster wherever the money went. His next step would have been to do something to their home if the note didn't work.

To celebrate they went to Menchie's for ice cream. "Mason! Save some m&ms for other people! Ug! You are so annoying!" Yup, criminals caught, things were back to normal for the Rater family.

“You said Ally is our top suspect,'' Ally said. 

"Oh,” Andy said, “that wasn't us it was the TV.” That was embarrassing. 

“It’s ok,” Kathrin said, “Wanna watch the grand finale of Undercover with us?"

try to find her.

Then she went to the mall. She checked all Ariona's favorite stores but didn't find her. It was one o'clock and Marieta decided to go to the food court for lunch. When she was just sitting down to eat Marieta heard a yell.

“Hey, give that back!" Marieta stood and saw a dark haired girl running out of the jewelry store with the clerk chasing her. Marieta hid behind a plant to get a better look while they ran by. She jumped out suddenly. "Ariona!" she gasped. 

"Mary,” Ariona said.

In the end Ariona explained that she stole a necklace because she didn't have enough money to buy her mom a birthday present. They hardly had enough money to pay for their house. Marietta couldn't stay mad even though stealing was wrong. She hugged her and gave her all her allowance. Ariona never stole ever again.

"They're here?!!!!” Trixie was out the door in an instant. 

"Trixie!!!" Colista jumped out of the car and scooped her sister up in a big bear hug. “I've missed you so much!" she said. 

"Not as much as I've missed you!" Trixie countered. 

"Fine,” Colista said, pretending to be upset, “We're even-- in height too, you must have grown 3 inches since I left.” 

Trixie tried to stand a little taller. "I am almost 12,” she said. “Isn't that old enough to go with you on your next mission?” 

Colista laughed. “We'll have to talk to Mom and Dad about that." 

Trixie sighed. "I already did, they said no." 

"Well maybe I can..." Colista started. 

"He-e-e-l-l-o-w, "Mike interrupted, "What about me?" 

"Oh, right,” Trixie said, pretending she forgot. Just then their parents burst out the door. 

"My babies!" their Mom said while hugging Colista. 

"Hey there son!” their Dad said. Everybody was all smiles having a wonderful reunion.

That night after dinner they were all sitting on the couch talking about what happened while Colista and Mike were away. “I had my birthday party last Saturday," Trixie said, “I wanted to wait for you guys but Dad said we can go to Porky’s for my birthday dinner tomorrow.” 

Mike jumped up. "That reminds me," he said, “We should probably wait ‘til tomorrow but I can't wait to give you your gift.” 

Colista handed her an envelope. Trixie eagerly tore it open and read the inside of the card, it said: Dear Trix, Happy Birthday!! Boy do we have a surprise for you. You're going to spend a month in Antarctica with us! Chill out, Mom and Dad said it's OK. We'll work out the details later, for now, start packing! With love Colista and Mike." As she read, a broad smile spread across Trixie's face.

Colista smiled as the plane landed and Trixie clutched her hand so hard her knuckles were white. Colista remembered her first day in Africa. She had been just as excited as Trixie is now. "Are you ok?" she asked. Trixie wiggled in her seat. "Ye-e-es!' she said.

"So this is where we're staying,” Colista said, a little disgusted. 

"Guess so,” Mike said, tossing his suitcase on one of the beds.

"Looks cozy," Trixie said, choosing the bottom bunk. It certainly was cozy, it was a small one room cabin with a fireplace at each end. There was a set of bunk beds on one side of the far fireplace and a third bed on the other side.

The next day they were getting ready to explore outside the cabin. “Trixie, did you pack your camera?" Mike asked. 

"Yea, I'll bring it," she said, "Why are you bringing cans of beans?" 

Colista answered for Mike. "Because your brother is scared of starving in just half an hour.” "Nu-u-u," Mike said. "You never know what could happen, we could get lost out there and starve to death.” 

Trixie looked scared. "So is it safe to go out?" she asked.

“Sure," Mike said, “It's just better to be safe than sorry."

“I'm freezing, can we go back now?" Colista asked. 

"I didn't want to complain but I'm pretty cold too," Mike said. 

"Just a little longer,” Trixie begged. “I don't get to have adventures every day like you do.” 

Mike looked up at the sky. "Ok but not too long," he said, “It's starting to snow." 

"Hurray!" Trixie began running, "Let's make a snowman and snow angels!" 

Colista and Mike looked at each other and shrugged then joined Trixie.

"Ok, we should really head back now,” Mike said. 

"Fine!" Trixie said, "Let's go." 

Colista looked around. "Go where?" she asked. 

"Back to the cabin of course," Mike said. 

"No, I mean which way is the cabin?" Colista asked. 

"It's that way,” Trixie and Mark said at the same time. They were pointing opposite directions. “Don't panic,” Colista ordered. 

"How do I not panic?" Trixie asked, “We're going to die out here!" 

"We are not going to die,” Mike said, "Although we would have a higher chance of living if you hadn't insisted that we stay and build a snowman."

Trixie gasped, "I just wanted to have an adventure!” 

"Well here you go!" Mike said, "Thanks to you we can spend our last days having one!" 

"I thought you said we wouldn't die!" Trixie retorted.

"Well…” Mike started, but before he could finish Trixie interrupted.

“And don't blame it all on me, Colista was supposed to keep track of where we are." 

Before Mike could answer, Colista spoke up, “Stop fighting,” she said, “It's getting late and we'll only survive out here if we work together." 

"How are we going to keep warm?” Trixie asked.

“We use our resources," Mike said.

“The only resource out here is snow and rocks,” Trixie said looking around. 

"I got it,'' Colista said, "We can build an igloo like the Indians did." 

"That could work,” Mike said, "And I brought some sticks to start a fire." 

Trixie stared at him. "How will we start it, or keep it burning?" 

Colista pated her pocket. "I have matches," she said. 

"The wood is pretty wet,” Mike said. “It should last the night, all we need is something to light that can spread to it." 

"I brought my sketchbook," Trixie said.

An hour later Colista, Mike, and Trixie were sitting in a small igloo around a fire, roasting beans on a flat rock. "How are we going to get home?'' Trixie asked. 

Colista put an arm around her. “We don't know yet,'' she said, “But God does, and He will protect us and lead us home if he wants us there.”

"What if He doesn't want us there?" Trixie asked.

"God wants us were He wants us," Mike said, "The Bible says 'God will work out all things for the good of those who love Him.’"

“And we love Him," Colista added, "All we can do now is pray." So they did. They prayed for God's will to be done and for Him to lead them home safely.

The next morning when Trixie woke up she felt like a magnet was pulling her east. So as soon as they were done eating breakfast they set off that way. About an hour later when they were about to turn back Colista saw something. "Didn't we walk along a lake for a while yesterday?" she asked.

“You're right," Mike said, "We walked Southwest from the cabin and then started following the lake." 

"How do we know where to branch off?" Colista asked. 

"I got it!" exclaimed Trixie, who had been looking at pictures on her camera. 

“Got what?" Colista and Mike asked at the same time. 

"The route, we branched off at this big boulder, see,” Trixie showed them the picture on her camera. So they followed the lake until they got to a big boulder then they went Northeast. When they saw the little cabin they all broke into a run shouting, "He saved us! God wanted us to get home!"

"We leave next week so you should get to packing," Grace said.

"Great," Emily said. The tone in her voice said she did not think it was too great. 

"Party pooper,” Rachle mocked. 

“See you in the woods," Grace called as she left without her shoes. 

"Um, Grace," Emily reminded her. 

"Oh, right," Grace put her shoes on and left.

1 Week Later

“Emily was supposed to be here 2 hours ago, where could she be?" Grace asked. 

"You know her,” Rachle said, "She probably couldn't decide which shoes to bring.” Just then the doorbell rang and Emily hobbled in lugging 7 suitcases.

"Oo!" what's in there?" Grace asked, opening one and rummaging through the fancy clothes. 

"Why do you need so many clothes?" Rachel asked. 

“Never know when you slobs might stain it," Emily said. 

“Never,” Grace said, setting down a pair of now stained capris. 

“What's in the rest of the suitcases?" Rachle wanted to know.

"That one has more clothes, the rest have parts of my bed, hair products, makeup, and electronics,” Emily told them. 

“Wow!” Grace said. 

"A bed? for camping?" Rachle was bewildered.

“What am I supposed to sleep on? The ground?" Emily asked. Grace rolled her eyes. 

"Ok let's go," Rachle said, walking out the door. 

5 hours later

"Rachle, do you know where we are going?" Grace asked. 

"Absolutely, the campsite,” Rachle said. 

“She has no idea how to get there," Grace whispered to Emily.

“Tell me I don't have to stress about this, I can not get a pimple,” Emily said. 

"Oh forget about your face,” Rachle said. "We’re lost."

10 minutes later

"Rachle, did it ever occur to you that wandering around here is just getting us more lost?” Grace asked. 

"We've passed that same tree at least 6 times," Emily said boredly. 

“There are other trees," Rachle said, "But you're probably right, let's set up camp here." Rachle and Grace set up the tent. 

5 minutes later

"That's it?" Emily asked, looking at the small tent that was just big enough for three sleeping bags. "How will my bed fit in there?" she asked. 

"It won't," Rachle said. 

"I guess I'll just have to sleep outside,” Emily said, looking at the sky to see if it would rain. 

“Ooo!” Grace got in the big fluffy bed. 

"Aaa! get out of my bed!” Emily screamed. 

Grace got out and revealed that she had left a big dirty smudge on the neat white sheets. 

"Never mind you can have it." Grace shrugged and flopped down. Emily growled. Rachle laughed.

“Well now your choices are cold ground or Grace's sleeping bag.” Emily would rather sleep on a bed of nails than in Grace's sleeping bag.

“Cold hard ground it is,” she said.

9 hours later 

Grace’s hand fell to the ground and she woke up with a start. The ground was was covered

in snow. The bed was covered in snow, but the only cold parts of Grace's body were her face and her hand. The blankets were very thick. She wanted to get out of bed and surprise Rachle and Emily with a pre-breakfast snowball fight but when Grace tried to push the covers away they wouldn't move. They were tucked in too tight and the top two layers were frozen solid. You would think that Grace could just fall back asleep but she was on the basketball team and had to get up at 5:30am every morning. Thankfully, Rachle was also an early bird, getting up at 6:30am to watch the sunrise. "How did YOU wake up so early?" Rachle asked, coming from behind the tent. 

“I will have you know that I get up at 5:30 every single morning, basketball or not," Grace sounded offended. 

“It's 7:00, why are you still in bed?" Rachle asked. "This bed is really comfy so I slept late... and I'm a little stuck," Grace said. Rachle rolled her eyes and tried to untuck the covers. They were too frozen to untuck. 

“How did it get like this anyway?" Rachle asked, “You never tuck your covers in." That was the first time Grace ever thought of how it happened. 

"I don't know,” she said. Rachle tried again to untuck the covers but they would not come. 

“I can't get you out," she said. 

Grace screamed, "I have to go to the bathroom and it's so hot under here that I feel like I sweated off at least 6 pounds.” Emily slowly stepped out of the tent, groggily rubbing her eyes. 

"What's all that noise? I'm trying to sleep,” she asked. 

"Long story," Rachle said. 

"Somehow my sheets and blankets got tucked in and frozen down,” Grace told her. 

"I can't get her out,” Rachle added. 

"Oh, I, uh, wonder how that happened,” Emily said as she backed into the tent. 

"What do you know?" Rachle asked Emily, who was acting awfully suspicious. 

"I tucked the sheets in during the night because I was mad at her for stealing my bed,” Emily burst. 

“Seriously?" Grace said. 

"Well I didn't know it would snow!" Emily yelled. 

"Well you knew I hate my covers tucked in!” Grace shot back. 

“I’ve told you a thousand times not to touch my stuff!" Emily screamed. Rachle was, as usual, the peacemaker. 

"Calm down, Grace shouldn't have stolen the bed and Emily shouldn't have tucked her in. Can you get over it?” Rachle said.

"Alright, alright, alright," Grace said. 

“Fine,” said Emily. 

"So any ideas on how to get me out?" Grace asked. Rachle looked around the campsite. 

“I guess we could start a fire and use it to melt the ice,” she said. 

"I'm already sweating to death now, do you want me to burn to death?” Grace would not have it.

"Or we could use my heating pad and not kill our friend,” Emily said. 

"You have a heating pad?" Rachle asked. 

"I happen to have very sensitive feet," Emily stated. 

"Who cares!" Grace yelled.

"Well we need electricity, "Rachle pointed out. Emily thought about that. “If we had a battery that might work." 

Grace had a solution, "I have a battery powered video game,” she said. "It might work if we could wire it right."

Rachle said that she knew a little wiring from Save the Earth Camp. So they wired it up and Grace was free and she learned not to touch Emily's stuff. Emily learned to control her vengeance and Rachel learned that her best friends were total wackadoos. They managed to enjoy the rest of their trip and stayed best friends forever and ever.