That left without a second glance
I’m not sure if I can take anymore
If had known what pain was in store
I would have taken my life at the age of three
And now I can only imagine how happy my life could be.
Sadness and woe
Why must it be so?
***
June 10th, 1984
Dear Diary,
Now, more than ever before, I am having serious problems. You may be thinking to yourself, wow, he’s an idiot.
Well I’m not.
I fully and totally accept my depressing take on life and my shaky at best state of mental heath. I realize there’s something wrong with me.
And besides, what would you know.
You’re a bunch of paper.
You know what? This isn’t working for me. I’m done.
***
June 21st, 1984
Dear Diary,
So, it’s been a while, and I know realize writing my problems down regulates them.
I’m in the hospital with serious injuries to my wrists and massive amounts of blood loss.
They say I’m lucky to be alive.
I’m not lucky.
It just happened to not kill me.
Of course, I didn’t slip and slit my wrists on a jagged piece of whatever.
I took a knife to myself.
And, albeit the doctors don’t know, my throat is really rope burned and my lungs still feel like their full of water. I don’t understand why I’m still here.
I only want to be with her.
In eternal bliss.
But apparently, killing yourself is tougher than I thought.
But I’ve got a plan.
And if I’m not going to get any better.
I might as well face it and take the easy way out.
***
June 23rd, 1984
Dear Diary,
And let it be known that this.
This is the day it ends.
And I want to go out like she did.
Happy.
Accepting.
Quick.
I have the gun loaded on my bedside table, the barrel is looking the other way, as if it’s disgusted with me.
Well, I say to it.
Get in line.
It looks cold.
I take it in my hand to warm it up.
It’s the same gun she used.
The bullet is still missing from the clip.
That one bullet that brought me down to hell.
My finger touches the trigger.
I’m trembling.
But yet, I’m smiling.
It has to be done.
I can see her, standing in the doorway.
My darling.
My sweet.
She’s looking at me.
Smiling.
She holds out her hand, and I take it.
And then, she starts singing to me.
A song from her mortal life.
To be with you, is like a fire in my heart.
To be without, is like being torn apart.
Oh why, oh why, must this life be so cruel?
Oh why, oh why must I have been such a fool?
Take my hand, my sweet, and we’ll fly away.
Together forever, is the only way.
I grip her hand tighter.
Put the barrel of the gun to my head.
Tears stream down my face.
My finger curls around the trigger.
She nods her head, as if with encouragement.
And I pull.
The.
Trigger.
***
And then I fall to the ground.
I hit it hard, but feel nothing.
I look up at her.
She tilts her head, ever so slightly.
She smiles.
This horrible, sad, beautiful, helpless smile.
I’ve seen it before.
And then, she helps me up.
We leave together.
Forever.
I hope you cried.
***
The Bomb
Jacob McSweeney
Prologue – May 2nd 2093
As of right now, I am on my way to a bunker built of solid steel, five metres thick, the thing will probably end up being my tomb. The bunker is in the northern most part of the Nevada desert. My family is well to do, that’s how we got this bunker. Took twenty-three years to build. I have sixteen hours to meet my family at the iron tomb. All because of a nuke.
Chapter 1 – Just Found Out – March 30th 2093
It just came on the TV that Japan has lashed out at the US. They made a bomb that tears through any natural life in its way. The bomb burns ANY plants, heavily accelerates the evolution of ANY animal, mutating them beyond genetic repair, and burns through the skin of ANY human, but leaving them alive, although, they don’t have to fear skin infections. The humans just look like they came straight out of hell.
May 1st 2093
They have prepared to launch the “The End of Western Civilization”. Mom called me and told me to pack up and get to the bunker. I have no choice, I want to stay here and live out my life to the fullest, but it looks like I am going to Nevada. I am going to start packing. I leave tomorrow.
Chapter 2 – On My Way – May 2nd 2093 – 1:07am
I have a twelve-hour drive, the bomb hits in sixteen. NOTHING can go wrong from here to Nevada or I may as well say “hello” to shriveled skin and people being repulsed by me.
May 2nd – 8:09am
I have nine hours left to get to the tomb, and of course, a guy runs a red light, and now he runs his mouth. I t-boned his car and it is totaled. My truck has no damage because my dad put the fancy grill on the front. Hopefully this guy will calm down and we can come to an agreement. I don’t think he understands what happens in nine hours, but I need to get going.
May 2nd – 10:53am
Six hours left and motor mouth just let me go. I explained the nuke. It only took me three hours. I now may not make it to Nevada because of this guy. I may as well at least try to get to the bunker. I guess I am speeding up.
May 2nd – 11:29am
I made I to the desert in time, but now to my luck, I am now lost. Mom sent me the coordinates but the GPS in my phone died. The desert doesn’t have great reception. I guess I will need to keep looking.
May 2nd – 5:02pm
I see the bunker entrance. I may be less than a kilometre away. Unfortunately, the bomb is double that, and will get here in no time at all. The bunker door is still open; it looks big enough that if it starts closing now, it will close just in time. My family is either waiting for me, or didn’t make it, either way, dead skin or not, we will all make it. Dead skin isn’t preferable.
Either way, it won’t be good.
***
The Flight
Jenna Schellekens
“Ding. ”
I take off my seatbelt as the light turns off.
I look out at the cloudy blue sky through the tiny airplane window. The fumes of the cleaners they use to clean the plane fill my nostrils and flip my stomach upside-down more than it already is. I somehow managed to stay calm throughout the takeoff, but now the butterflies in my stomach are beginning to come alive and fumble around aimlessly in my intestines.
Some may ask, why am I so nervous? Well last month I turned seventeen and my family has this abnormal tradition to travel by plane for the first time at the age of seventeen. To make it worst, I must travel alone. For other seventeen-year-old boys and girls, this would excite them. If you are like me, well then...it is the worst thing that you would have to do.
When I was little girl all I did was dream about this moment. But now that it’s here, suddenly I wish it were over. After hearing about so many disastrous plane crashes that end with almost everyone dying and the movies like “Snakes On A Plane” it’s a wonder anybody wants to get on a plane anymore.
I take a long dragging deep breath. I tell myself that all I need to do is think about the positive, calm down, and think about all the times people have gotten on and off planes without harm. I guess you could say safety flights are in my favour.
“Hi, my name is Ali!” I look beside me at the girl I’ve been sitting next to for the past hour. She’s younger than me, maybe fourteen. Her hair falls just past her shoulders in a mess of blond curls. Her dark brown eyes seem to bore into me, waiting for me to introduce myself.
I smile. “Hey, I’m Natalie” Plain old Natalie as my friends would say. Same long curly chocolate brown hair with grassy green eyes and the same old wardrobe that I’ve had for years that only consist of hoodies and skinny jeans.
“Are you going to Toronto too?” She asks, turning to face me. Her lips form the perfect smile.
“Yeah, I’m going to see my aunt. This is my first time on a plane.” I let out an uneasy laugh in an attempt to give her the idea it’s no big deal and that my nerves are not swirling around in me like a world wind. By the look on her face I know my shield has been broken.
As if knowing what I’m thinking Ali says, “Don’t worry, this is my fifth time on a plane and my second time all alone. There’s really nothing to worry about They don’t let just anybody fly a plane and they always check to make sure everything is working perfectly before they take flight.”
I look at this girl now next to me and feeling silly for ever being afraid of this flight. Most of my devilish butterflies began to fly away and start to feel like that little girl again who has always looked forward to this very moment.
“Yeah I guess.” I laugh again only this time it is a true laugh. “Why are you going to Toronto?
“I’m going to see my cousins; they never get the time to come to see me so I am always the one spending the money so we can still see each other.” We talk for some time about what we liked and what our hobbies are, but eventually we both fall asleep.
It seems I had been sleeping for only seconds when I am jolted awake and hurled to the ground next to Ali. There are passengers screaming everywhere, you could smell the amount of fear in the air. I struggle to get up and get back in my seat. Both Ali and I click on our seat belts as do the other passengers and as if I am too terrified to speak, I just sit there clutching Ali’s arm without uttering a word. I listened to the static sound of the speaker the air attendances uses to talk to us and give us directions in moments like these but no words are heard.
Ali’s eyes are now wide with terror and she is shaking my arm viscously. “What's happening?” she screams at me. I look out the window to avoid seeing the fear in her eyes and I am completely caught off guard to see we are closing in on a group of trees below at an indescribable speed. I can see smoke rising from the wings of the plane where the engine is and it is clear that it has blown.
More screams of terror are let go into the empty air. G-masks fall down into our faces. Few people actually put them on, we all know they won’t help us; nothing we have can help or prepare us for what is about to happen. I grab Ali’s hand and wait for the blow and pray for a miracle.
I open my eyes and am blinded by the bright light illumination off the snow and the crystal like blue sky. I stare at it for a moment and enjoy its peacefulness and calm. The air smells fresh and full of life and it seems I can almost taste the thin layer of mist in the air. I get up onto my feet and grunt the pain and effort it takes. My body is covered in cuts and bruises burning with pain that becomes unbearable whenever I move.
A shock wave of agony shoots through my foot up through my leg as I hit something sticking up out of the ground. I look down at a piece of a white airplane wing, and that’s all I need to remember the plane crash and me gripping Ali’s arm praying everything will be all right. The seconds I want to forget and that I wish never happened, but they did and here I am.
I look around at my surroundings. The plane is scattered everywhere! My eyes force me to look at the remains of the now lost souls of the passengers, their bodies scattered with the plane fragments, some hung limp from tree branches others mangled and missing arms, legs, and other limbs. Their eyes are clouded over and mouths open in mid-cry.
I fall to my knees and start to cry myself for everyone who lost their lives on this flight and for the luck I had for my own life to be spared from this unthinkable crash that came upon us all. I’m not sure how long I cry for, minutes, maybe hours until my eyes are puffy and red.
“Na-Natalie?” A voice calls from behind me. It's not just anyone’s voice, yet I am still shocked as I turned around to see Ali running over to me arms outreached for me.
I can't believe it! We have both survived the crash. I am overwhelmed with joy to see her and stand up on my feet not caring about the protest my body makes with the movement. I open my arms wide as she ran into them and I gave her the biggest hug I have ever given.
We both cry with joy of being alive and fear for what just happened and for what is to come next. We are in the middle if a huge wide spread of trees and snow with no food and no material to help protect us from the cold. The sun is beginning to set and with it being winter it will be dark very soon.
I look down at Ali and noticed a gash just above her eyebrow; caked with dirt where it crossed from one eyebrow the next. I become nervous at the sigh to it. “Are you ok, Ali you have a cut on your forehead.” I sit her down.
Ali looks up at me and smiles. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s only little cut anyway. Oh and I have a pile of wood over there.” She points with her hand to a small pile of twigs not far away from us. “I tried to make a fire, but it didn’t work. I only got splinters and one of the smallest sparks that can be made.”
“I’ll try it, I’ve done this before with my dad in a camping trip. It took me forever to get it started, but now I’m actually pretty good at it.” I hope it will make her feel a little better having someone around to start a fire that will be key for our survival until someone can find us.
When we reach the pile of sticks I pick out two to start the fire and place them in the middle of the pile sticking up straight and took them in my hands and quickly rubbed them together. After a while with no result I become discouraged and wonder if I am even doing it right. I try stroking the two sticks together also, but with no result in the end.
“Why can’t I do it?” I throw my hands up in the air in defeat. Without this fire we might not make it through the night.
We both try to get the fire going for another hour, but it becomes too dark to do anything. We give up and huddled together in the cold wet snow. Ali begins to cry and I hug her tightly to my chest reassuring her everything will be all right and that someone would find us in the morning.
I wake up and right away the pain in my body has increased overnight to a whole new degree. I can hardly move a stiff muscle. I turn onto my side with a silent cry and see Ali still asleep. Knowing it will be better for both of us to move around and get warmed up and to get our muscles moving, I decided to wake her up.
I shake her once with no luck, so I shake her a bit harder and turned her over saying, “Ali, wake up we have to get going.” She still hasn’t wakened and as I tilt her face towards mine I scream and jump up onto my feet.
Ali’s eyes are clouded over identical to the ones of the dead. I sink down onto the snow next to her and cradled her body, now cold and stiff and ghostly pale, unlike the warm rosy of yesterday before any of this crazed agony and fear and this tragedy became real. I lose faith in that moment sitting in the snow with my friend now passed like the rest of the passengers of our cursed flight. I wish Ali had taken me with her.
I bolt upright with a sweat-covered body. I am back home in my own bed safe and sound; it has all been a terrifying dream. It had been so real, I am still shaking now I as I get out of my bed and head into the kitchen to meet my parents at the table. Never in my life have I been so glad to see them.
“Hi!” I say giving them both hugs. They hug me back and I swear I
never want them to let go ever again. I’m just so glad it was all a dream and that I’m all right.
My mom walks over to the door and puts on her coat and purse. Beside her is a pile of luggage. “Are you ready for your flight? We have to leave very soon or you are going to miss it!” She pushes me with her hand at the small of my back to my bedroom to get dressed.
I get sick to my stomach as I remember I still have a very real flight to catch today and I can’t help thinking as we pile up the car and drive to the airport. It was so real, but it also showed me how wild my imagination is. When we arrived at the airport, I am feeling more confident and now I am sure I am ready for this flight as I say good-bye to my parents and board the plane.
I smile at the attendant greeting us at the front of the aisle with a newly found confidence and truly feel I have overcome my fear of flying. I continue to walk down the aisle until I find my seat and I sit down. The fumes of many varieties of different cleaners seem invisible to all senses I may have. I take in a long deep breath and smile.
After a few minutes someone sits next to me, “Hi” She says. I look over and am frozen with fear. There sitting next to me it Ali.
***
The Fight
Jenna Smith
Hi, I’m Mary-Lou and I’m eighteen. I’m also a professional soccer player. I have been playing soccer ever since I was five years old, and I absolutely adore the sport. It’s also a big part of my life. But that’s not why I’m writing this story. I’m writing this to tell you about a life-changing event that happened to me when I was thirteen, and it made a huge impact on my life.
My mom was yelling at me to hurry up or I was going to be late for school again. So like usually I ran down the stairs and ate my breakfast and ran down the driveway to try and catch the bus. When I got to school I ran to my friends, Grace and Lucy and started to talk to them. One of the subjects that popped up in our conversation was the “Big Game’ that was happing that night. You see I loved to play soccer with my friends! But anyways we were talking about who was going to win and who was the best soccer player and stuff like that. But none of that mattered to me because all I cared about was playing soccer with my friends and having fun!